The Shadow Room
by Ariel D
Summary: When Gaara declares he is running for Kazekage, a complex assassination plan is hatched, one in which Baki and Temari are also caught. Kankuro must save them from an ancient jutsu without any idea of what has occurred.
1. The Gauntlet

**The Shadow Room**

影の室

By Ariel-D and Surreptitious Chi X

_Description: When Gaara declares he is running for Kazekage, a complex assassination plan is hatched, one in which Baki and Temari are also caught. Kankuro must save them from an ancient jutsu without any idea of what has occurred._

_Disclaimer: Gaara, Kankuro, Temari, Baki, and the Naruto-verse are copyrighted by Masashi Kishimoto and Weekly Shonen Jump. I am making no profit; this is just for fun._

_A/N: Set when Gaara is 14, Kankuro 16, and Temari 17, sometime after they've made chuunin._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: The Gauntlet is Thrown<strong>

The election for Kazekage was due to start in two months, which meant that candidates had to be chosen now, this week. In Suna, a person appeared before the Council in person to submit their name, and at least one council member had to approve them or 'sponsor' them. If not even one council member could say that this person was worthy to be Kazekage, who among the villagers would vote on them, anyway? Or so went the theory.

This was the first day of the candidate choosing process, and all the older councilmen were grumpy about it. Pretty much everyone over the age of 40 thought this process was a pain in the ass and got in the way of doing important things. Baki soon saw why: in the first hour, 60 people had come to submit their names, and only four of them had been sponsored. The rest were all high-confidence, low-qualification upstarts.

After the second hour, the Council called a ten minute break to stretch, get something to drink or eat, and blow off steam before continuing. It was odd to see important men casually chatting and eating candy or crackers, but Baki was used to it by now. Whether he liked them or not, he certainly knew them well.

Ashio, the Head of Education, was eating dried apricots, his favorite snack. His best friend Omarugawa, Head of Citizenry, ate pretzel sticks. He did so with his usual sour expression. The two had been through many elections. Only two of the elections had been for Kazekage, but still. They were both old men, and Baki politely referred to them as 'out of touch.'

Ryu, Head of Civilian Affairs, was older than they, but clean-shaven. He also had less wrinkles than the ever-frowning Omarugawa, though that was no surprise. He ate cheese sticks calmly and politely, smiling but not saying a word to anybody. He looked like he didn't even need this break. Baki knew appearances could be deceiving.

Although Baki had been lounging in his chair, drinking cold coffee, he realized he might go crazy if he didn't stretch, so he got up and walked, aiming to make a circuit of the room. He had the bad fortune to pass Ashio and Omarugawa at exactly the wrong moment.

"Let's not," Ashio said decidedly.

"It seems prudent not to thrust children into positions of command," Omarugawa agreed. "There are plenty of people from old families who would be willing Kazekages."

"Let's not what?" Baki asked pleasantly.

Ashio flinched and looked up at Baki with wide, blue eyes. "Nothing. That is, something. Well . . . "

"We've decided not to sponsor any of Yondaime's children," Omarugawa said, having less of a reaction to Baki towering over him, even though Baki was a little over six feet tall and muscular, while Omarugawa was five foot seven and a stick.

"Just like that?" Baki asked.

Omarugawa shrugged. "Too young. Maybe the next time we need a Kazekage they will be a little more . . . mature." He ventured a smile, which for Omarugawa was a smirk.

Baki briefly imagined punching Omarugawa in the face, and then nodded, smiling in return. "Makes sense." He walked on, but he didn't get a quarter around the room before he heard other people saying the same thing.

"What about the Kazekage children?" the Head of Finances asked Ryu.

Ryu looked dissatisfied. "I don't know that any of them are suited to command."

"I heard a rumor that Gaara wants to —"

"_Gaara_?" Ryu shook his head. "The fourteen-year-old jinchuuriki?"

Baki forced himself to walk by. Otherwise, Ryu might get hurt.

When the break was over, and everyone was settled — the table being foodstuff-free and businesslike once again — Ryu had the gall to call a short meeting and announce that in the 'best interests' of Suna, they should refuse to sponsor any of Yondaime's children due to their age. An age cap had never been explicitly discussed before, especially in the previous generations due to early graduation ages.

"But the children of this generation are different," Ryu said. "Things are changing. People are not as mature as they used to be. I think it wise to implement an age cap of nineteen years old for this election."

"We would need to vote on that," Ashio protested. "We haven't got time."

Ryu held up his hand. "Unofficially of course. Just a guideline. Of course an . . . exemplary . . . candidate can be considered even if too young."

"A guideline?" Baki repeated.

"Yes," Ryu said. "I think it makes things simpler, don't you?" He gave Baki a benign smile.

Baki paused, pretending to think about it. "Yes. Of course."

And everyone was satisfied.

Until, of course, 11:03 rolled around. Not because 11:03 was inherently a bad time, but because that was when Gaara entered the council chamber with Kankuro.

Baki smiled at the two people he'd come to view as his sons, while everyone around him tensed.

"Name," Ryu said, remarkably still able to sound bored.

Baki could see people waiting, holding their breath. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know that people were internally chanting, _Kankuro. Kankuro. Please let them say Kankuro._

Gaara inched forward and opened his mouth. "Gaara."

Color suffused Ryu's face, and a few people looked faint.

Ryu cleared his throat. "Reasons?"

"Qualifications," Gaara said. "I have served with nearly every team in Suna, and I feel I have the experience and the pedigree to be Kazekage. My father was Kazekage, and I inherited his talent."

Kankuro crossed his arms and stood just behind Gaara on his right side — his usual position of support. When Gaara had told him that morning that he was going to make good on his desire to be Kazekage by submitting his name, Kankuro had been sorry Temari was on a long-range mission to Tanigakure. She wasn't due back until midnight, and Gaara could really have used her support as well. Kankuro would give it all he had, though. "A blood relative of the previous Kazekage has always been elected," he pointed out needlessly, "and three of the four previous Kazekages have had magnetism release, which is the most powerful kekkei genkai Suna has." In addition to Sandaime and Yondaime, Shodaime had possessed magnetism release; also, Sandaime had been their father's uncle. "Gaara is the most logical choice, and he has the work ethic and dedication to do it."

"I see," Ryu began, but he was cut off by another man.

"Yes, but a jinchuuriki has _never_ been elected Kazekage." The caustic voice made everyone turn and stare. Unji, a man with a broad jaw and a small, pointed white beard, stood out by a mile with his aura of fighting-ready coldness. His white hair was cropped short, and he had unpleasant wrinkles around his eyes. The kind of lines caused by squinting. Like he was doing now at Gaara.

"I have Shukaku under control," Gaara said in a quiet, calm voice. His chakra was indeed, serene, like the glassy surface of a lake.

"Well, let's put it to a vote, and that will be that," Ryu said hastily. He looked around the room with desperate relief. "Shall anyone say they sponsor Gaara in this election?"

And everyone sat back, settling down again.

Baki smiled and raised his hand. "I will."

Ryu almost fell out of his seat and grabbed onto his composure with both hands for dear life.

"Baki-san, why?" Ashio wailed.

"Is this another stunt for attention?" Omarugawa asked, glaring at him.

"Another?" Baki asked innocently. "What was the first? I was merely answering the question. Will anyone sponsor Gaara? That was the question. I will. That is the answer."

Omarugawa slapped his forehead. "You can't do that! It's irresponsible —"

"I think it far more than irresponsible, gentleman." Unji's cold voice cut through Omarugawa's effortlessly, and Omarugawa was a hard man to shut up.

Baki felt the urge to roll his eyes. _Great. He's got his wind up._ Most of the time, Unji would sit silently, giving no indication he'd even paid attention. As far as the council was concerned, Unji didn't have to, because he was an Elder Advisor and nothing more. As far as rampant rumor was concerned, he was the secret head of ANBU.

Unji attempted to pin Baki with a stare that didn't work because Baki wouldn't look at him.  
>"You are coldly undercutting our very chance of survival," Unji said.<p>

Baki gave no indication of hearing.

"Ah, you are dismissed," Ryu said to Kankuro and Gaara, trying to keep in control of the situation. "Thank you."

_That went about as well as Gaara said it would,_ Kankuro thought, internally flinching. He never ceased to be amazed by how people talked about Gaara right in front of his face. As though he weren't there, they insulted him. It made Kankuro angry and even depressed, but he knew Gaara was used to it by now.

Although "used to" did not mean immune.

But, also just as Gaara had predicted, Baki had supported him. Not that Kankuro was surprised. Baki had been by their sides nonstop since their father had been killed. And if anything, Kankuro wished he were around even more.

"I'll see you at home," Baki called cheerfully, grinning at Kankuro and Gaara. He joked that the Kazekage mansion was his real home because he was over there so much. He ate dinner with 'the kids' almost every night, unless he had a mission that got in the way. Sometimes, they stayed up watching TV until the minute the broadcast shut off for the night or stayed up even later watching a movie. It was like having a family again.

Gaara bowed, carefully expressionless. "Thank you," he intoned.

"Your blatant favoritism, your disgusting self-centered attitude, and your need to reject authority, are all going to get us killed!" Unji snapped.

Baki looked at the wall, pretending not to hear.

"We have many more candidates to process," Ryu protested.

Gaara raised an eyebrow at the way the council had clearly moved on without him, turned, and walked out the door.

Although he was furious at Unji's insult toward Baki, Kankuro followed his brother. One of his ex-friends had made a snide remark that there was a magnet inside of Kankuro's stomach that Gaara pulled on so that Kankuro was forced to follow him around. It had a been a really bitchy way of saying that Kankuro followed Gaara like a lost puppy dog. But it wasn't that at all. Kankuro was very protective of his little brother, even more so now that Gaara had started confiding in him. In fact, he had always loved his little brother, and now that Gaara had Shukaku under control, Kankuro could show it without fear.

However, Kankuro wasn't quite sure just how strong Gaara's feelings were for him. After all, Gaara wasn't precisely very expressive. Kankuro had to go on basic cues such as the confiding of dreams.

Gaara waited until they were walking down the hallway of the Kazekage Complex and then gave Kankuro a small smile. Kankuro had stood up for him, even though there was no logical reason for Kankuro to do so. After all, it wasn't as though the Council would listen. Still, it was a show of support. Exactly what their bond had been founded on. Gaara appreciated that about Kankuro. As a matter of fact, Kankuro did what ten tons of sand couldn't: he made Gaara feel safe.

Gaara had already formed a daydream that if he became Kazekage, he would make Kankuro and Temari his bodyguards so that he would never have to feel Not Safe again. He hadn't confided that yet, because it was useless to do so before anyone sponsored him in the election. A prediction that Baki would do that wasn't the same as a guarantee.

The next time he and Kankuro were alone — perhaps after Gaara's mission today — he would tell Kankuro his new dream.

Meanwhile, back in the council room, Unji was not remotely done throwing a fit. Baki was treated to skewering comments for the rest of the day. Baki weathered it silently, but he couldn't help thinking, _I wish Chiyo-baa and Ebizo-jii were here._ During the days when Chiyo and Ebizo were on the Council as Elder Advisors, before they had decided to become recluses, Unji hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise. _If he even tried to speak in the middle of the election process like that, they would have kicked his ass._

Baki sighed to himself, but he took it. What else was he supposed to do? He was a junior councilman, and Unji was an Elder.

And if the rumors about his being the secret head of ANBU were true, a very dangerous elder as well.

* * *

><p>When Baki got off work, he went 'home' to the mansion practically next door. "I'm home," he called, slipping off his sandals.<p>

"Oh, hi!" Temari jumped up from the couch. She had a shrimp cracker in her mouth. "I got home early." She grinned and crunched her cracker, eating it in short order. "Totally awesome. So, anyway, let's go shopping." She walked into the foyer and slipped on her sandals.

"Shopping?" Baki asked.

"Yeah, we're out of food," Temari said. "I noticed it when I got home. I had to eat some snacks to tide me over until you got here."

"Ah . . . " Baki saw Kankuro and Gaara coming down the stairs behind her.

Although Temari clearly knew they were there, it didn't stop her from stage whispering, "'Cause Kankuro forgot."

"Yeah, okay," Baki said. He didn't want a fight to start, but he really wished Temari would cut Kankuro some slack.

"We are ready," Gaara announced.

"Great." Temari slid open the front door and walked out. "Let's get it done already."

Baki looked at Kankuro apologetically.

Kankuro held in a sigh, dejected. Since he actually had the day off, he'd started painting after lunch and had gotten completely lost in his picture. He hadn't even remembered shopping until Temari knocked on his door, announced she was back, and asked him what they were having for dinner. When he had to admit he didn't know since he hadn't gone shopping, he'd expected to catch hell. The shopping and cooking were the chores that he'd agreed to do once their dad died and the help had been dismissed. It was his responsibility to keep up with these things, just like it was Temari's responsibility to gather the dirty clothes and do the laundry.

He stayed close to Gaara, unconsciously wishing for protection. In his overall experience, things did not go well for him with others if they didn't approve of his behavior and choices. His paternal grandfather had helped give him that impression, and the "lesson" had stuck so violently that he secretly had anxiety attacks from time to time. Of course, being exposed to Shukaku via Gaara hadn't helped that any. When Kankuro had been a child, a wrong move around either Gaara or their paternal grandfather often had extreme consequences.

Gaara frowned at Temari.

Baki walked on the other side of Kankuro while Temari pulled ahead, obviously in Get-It-Done mode. She hadn't unwound from her mission yet at all.

Temari finally stopped when she was more than twenty feet ahead and turned around. "Come on. The market's not gonna stay open forever, you know."

"The market stays open until the sun is down," Baki said patiently.

Temari looked at the sky and growled. The sun was still persistently hanging in there and would for another three hours. "Well, fine, then! I'm hungry."

"We understand that," Baki said. "You don't have to take it out on anybody."

"We have ramen," Gaara said. "You said you didn't want any."

"That's not food!" Temari protested.

"You are in error," Gaara said. "Ramen is food. It is packaged, labeled, and sold as —"

"Oh, god, I don't care. Whatever." Temari turned on her heel and pulled ahead again.

"Let her blow off steam," Baki said, resigned. "Maybe if she runs around some she won't be so . . . "

"Aggressive?" Gaara suggested.

Baki pressed his lips together.

Kankuro was deadly silent. People did not tend to blame him in any small way; it usually exploded into massive fireworks, something he didn't want to get started here. Of course, if they got aggressive enough, he fought back. But the concepts of "duty" and "responsibility" had been hammered into his head to the point he felt Temari's impatience was justified. Not that that made him feel any better, of course.

No, his best option was to get the food and just cook it. Make everyone else happy. He'd worry about himself once everyone else's needs were taken care of.

Temari was back into happy chattering mode once they were actually at the market, surrounded by food ingredients that could potentially be combined to feed her.

"Oh, you know what we should have?" Temari said. "We should have tsukune!" She grinned at Kankuro. "You like to cook that, right?"

Kankuro stared at her, aghast. He didn't really _like_ to cook anything. It was just a life necessity. Not to mention tsukune was not an easy recipe.

"Meatballs," Baki repeated blankly. "That have dried mushroom in it. Dried mushrooms take 45 minutes to bloom."

Temari's face fell. "Oh, yeah."

Baki snorted. "Try to think of something quicker, huh? You're hungry."

"Right, right . . . "

They picked up all the dry goods they would need for a couple weeks, things like noodles and rice and a few spices they'd gotten low on. Something only Kankuro would know about, since he did all the cooking.

"Uh . . . soup?" Temari asked when they were at the meat stalls.

Kankuro cringed in horror. Soup, which seemed simple, could take a lot of time and effort to fix. He didn't think she was doing it on purpose — she didn't know anything about cooking because she didn't do it — but it was almost like a punishment for his forgetting the shopping.

"Think faster," Baki advised. "You're starving. Pick something with either rice or noodles."

Temari thought hard.

Gaara openly sighed. "You're taking longer to pick than it will take to cook."

"All right, all right already," Temari said. "Chicken yakisoba."

At this suggestion, Kankuro relaxed. At least that was quicker and easier. He was willing to cook to keep his family fed, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it that much. It was called a "chore" for a reason.

They bought the supplies that would stock the kitchen and took it home. They each had a bag of groceries to carry.

Baki got up to the door first and then remembered it would be locked. He jerked on the handle anyway, merely messing around, and almost fell over. The door slid open on him. "Did you leave the door unlocked or did I?" he asked, catching his balance and turning around.

"I locked it," Gaara said. "The keys are still in my pocket."

"Are you sure?" Baki asked, knowing it was a stupid question when Gaara was concerned.

Gaara nodded.

Baki couldn't comprehend a thief in the world with the balls to break into the Kazekage Mansion. He walked inside and took off his sandals. "Well, that's a mystery we'll solve later."

"Yeah," Temari said. "You probably did forget."

Gaara frowned and entered without comment, close on Temari's heels.

"Gaara forget?" Kankuro said, his disbelief evident. "Yeah, right." He slid off his sandals as well and glanced around the hallway and into the living room, suspicious. Everything seemed in order, although that proved little. _A thief? Here? Surely not._

"Well, let's get this stuff put away, anyway," Baki said, setting his bag on the counter. He had the meat.

Temari nodded and held her bag with one arm. It was vegetables, some fresh, some frozen. She whipped open the freezer, stuffed it full of the frozen food, and then unloaded the nappa cabbage into the refrigerator. She straightened up from putting the cabbage in the crisp drawer and did a double-take. "Hey! My bubble tea is gone."

"Your what?" Baki asked, startled.

"Her bubble tea," Gaara said. "She bought it on the way back from her mission and put it in the refrigerator."

"I like to let the pearls sit," Temari said, pouting. "They get all nice and juicy. If I eat them right away, they're chewy and dry on the inside. Who wants to eat dry tapioca? So I put it in the fridge. And it's gone."

Baki frowned, almost amused. "So someone unlocks the front door to steal your bubble tea?"

"We were all gone," Temari said grumpily. "I don't see how else it could've disappeared."

"I can't report the theft of a bubble tea," Baki said.

"Half," Gaara corrected. "Half a bubble tea. She drank half of it before she came home."

Baki massaged the bridge of his nose, overcome by the absurdity.

Kankuro had opened his bag and was busy putting up the rice and buckwheat noodles, although he left out the fresh yakisoba noodles. At Temari's exclamation, though, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the trashcan. Inside was an empty cup. "Your cup is in the trash," he noted. At this, he assumed it was a practical joke by one of Temari's many friends. Probably Emiko with the help of Juro.

"What?" Temari raced over. She stared the cup with wide eyes and then picked it up. She almost dropped it. "That feels weird."

"Let me." Baki took the cup from her and immediately frowned. "There are traces of chakra on it. From someone's fingertips . . . Someone held this cup and performed a jutsu."

Temari shivered. "Well, that is _not_ anyone's chakra I know."

"This is bad," Gaara said flatly. "Someone with a sociopathic mindset broke into our house and did something either immediately before, during, or immediately after stealing your bubble tea. This has boundary violations written all over it."

Baki dropped the cup back in the trash. "You're right. It's not a good sign. It's cold. Cold-blooded."

"So he broke into our home and got _thirsty_?" Temari sounded caught between offence and shock.

"And took your bubble tea," Baki said.

"It might also be a she," Gaara corrected.

Kankuro realized he'd think it was funny if only it didn't involve someone breaking into their house. "Better questions: what jutsu? And are they still here?"

"I don't know what kind of jutsu," Baki said. "Only that it was strong enough to make their body emit enough chakra through their fingertips to leave a trace on a cup. Enough of a trace to give the cup a 'bad' feeling." Baki frowned. "And if they're here, they're going to wish they aren't. Let's search the house."

"But not alone," Temari objected.

"In pairs," Baki suggested.

Gaara nodded. "I'll go with Kankuro."

"Let's take the second floor," Kankuro said to Gaara. "They can take the first." He paused. "I guess we can take the third floor while we're at it."

Gaara nodded. "Hai."

Baki nodded. "Right. Let's go."

Temari nodded, wary, her hunger apparently forgotten.

Kankuro headed upstairs with Gaara, doing a sweep of the bedrooms. The mansion had twenty bedrooms between the second and third floors, including a massive master bedroom suite and an equally massive guest state suite. Between rooms, closets, and bathrooms, there was plenty of space to check.

Gaara walked alongside him in silence as they swept the rooms, which was typical. Kankuro decided not to attempt conversation since they were looking for intruders. Not that the intruder wouldn't sense them or hear them coming. Also, Kankuro repeated his usual chakra scan of the mansion. He always did it when he got home; he had that night as well. It was an issue of safety, sure, but it was also to practice his underdeveloped chakra-sensing abilities. Developing them before had been useless with Shukaku's massive chakra bearing down on everyone. Now that Gaara had Shukaku under control, Kankuro could make use of his sensing ability. However, his second scan revealed nothing more than his first: four people and three cats. Plus one spirit, although Kankuro didn't ever tell anyone about that part.

Gaara frowned. "Nothing," he commented quietly.

Kankuro heard Temari and Baki coming up the stairs and down the hall. "There's nothing downstairs," Baki called as soon as they were in view.

"But we forgot the attic," Temari said.

"Or rather, we did not factor in the attic because it is stuffy and hot and hardly a good choice for a hideout," Gaara said.

"Unless we don't look, in which case it's great," Temari muttered.

"We may as well," Baki said.

"Well, I'm going downstairs to crash on the sofa," Temari said.

"If you don't want to wait for Kankuro, you can feel free to begin dinner," Gaara said dryly.

"Not my job," Temari said.

At that, Kankuro swallowed a sigh. "Baki, why don't we check out the attic?" He suddenly needed a moment alone with him.

Baki nodded. "Hai."

Gaara nodded and walked off without a word.

Baki joined Kankuro. As soon as both siblings were gone, he rested a hand on Kankuro's arm. "Bad day." It wasn't a question. First, the Council had openly disregarded Gaara and insulted Baki, neither one of which were things Kankuro coped with well. Then Temari had come home in a complaining mood — clearly — and finally, someone had broken into the house while they were out.

"Yeah." Kankuro's shoulders slumped. He was having one of those moments where he wished he had very different relationships with the people around him. He wished Gaara and he talked more — and more easily. He wished Temari saw him as something other than her irresponsible younger brother. He wished Baki saw him as . . . Actually, he wasn't quite sure. He wished his dad wasn't dead (an opinion he knew Gaara did not share, but that was a painful topic). And he wished he didn't carry around the secrets he did, although he didn't expect anyone to believe him.

Especially the two about his grandfathers — both the good and the bad.

"Baki, would you . . ." The question got stuck in his throat. Kankuro really wished Baki would just move in with them and become part of the family. "Would you stay over tonight? 'Cause even if we find nothing, I'm . . . unsettled . . . now."

Baki nodded and squeezed Kankuro's shoulder. "Of course I will. I would never leave you — or your brother and sister — in any danger, even a breath of danger. I couldn't stand it. I'm glad I have your permission to stay here tonight."

Kankuro relaxed faintly and smiled at him. "Thanks, man." Well, he knew he at least felt safer now. Since he and his siblings were genin when their father was killed, they had all been ruled legally emancipated minors. Kankuro wasn't sure what the Council's reasoning had been on that, really, but he knew it made him feel over-extended. Had they survived? Of course. Did it make them feel safe and stable? Now that was a separate issue.

Baki smiled back and squeezed his shoulder again. "Now let's find this guy and beat the crap out of him. I hope he is dumb enough to hide in the attic."

Kankuro laughed.

Baki grinned, glad to lighten the mood.

They searched the attic, but the most dangerous thing they encountered was stuffy air and dust inhalation. They left the attic gratefully, sweating, and headed downstairs into the much cooler house.

"Nothing," Baki announced.

Kankuro smirked at Temari. "It's probably just Emiko, maybe with Juro, pranking you. This is Emiko's kind of practical joke, you know. I mean, seriously. All we have is an 'missing' bubble tea." Although, granted, it didn't explain the chakra. "Maybe she used a jutsu to mask her chakra or something." He shrugged. Practical jokers made no sense to him at all, so how would he know how far they'd go to mess with someone? His best friend, Shiro, had wild stories of past practical jokes on other friends, so Kankuro at least knew they would go far. Shiro had even gone so far as to puncture the bottom of a can of green tea with a tiny needle and drain it as well as eat someone's bento and then replace all the food with life-like fake sushi just to mess with them.

Temari sat up on the sofa and groaned. "Really? Do you think so?"

Gaara nodded. "The available evidence does state that nothing was taken or moved, only that the door was unlocked and your bubble tea has been drunk."

"The door being unlocked was your fault," Temari said.

Gaara frowned and didn't reply.

"Either way, it could be true that the chakra felt different or wrong because of the intent of the person using the jutsu," Baki pointed out. "If your friend meant to scare you, that might be imprinted on the chakra left on the cup."

Temari sighed. "Okay. I'll catch up with them later and see if I can get one of them to crack."

"Ask them if they unlocked the door," Gaara said. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen.

"You know, you should trust Gaara when he says he didn't leave the door unlocked," Baki said as gently as possible.

"Everyone can make a mistake," Temari said grumpily.

Baki knew when to give up. "Come on, Kankuro. I'll help you make dinner."

There was no way Kankuro would say no to help. "Okay." He retreated into the kitchen, not wanting to see the situation escalate into a fight. There had been more than enough fighting in the past. Now that their household had settled into basic peace, Kankuro did not want it disturbed.

The last thought he had when he drew a pot of water was that some jutsu could be time-delayed or action-triggered. In a fit of paranoia, he checked the cup again, but nothing was written on it. He set aside his concern and turned his attention to making supper. After all, Baki was staying the night, and they were all trained to take care of themselves.


	2. Shadow Room

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows, and faves!  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: Shadow Room<strong>

Sliding open the door, Kankuro stepped into the Kazekage Mansion's foyer and yanked off his sandals. "I'm home!" he called, expecting Temari and Gaara both to have beaten him home that day. He and his team had been on a long range mission, after all.

To his surprise, no response came back.

For Gaara, that wasn't necessarily so strange. He could've been up in his room. Temari, however, usually retired to the couch after her missions and waited for Kankuro to cook dinner. But today, the murmur of the television didn't reach Kankuro's ears, and when he extended his senses, searching for his siblings' chakra signatures, he didn't get anything. _What, really?_

He stepped into the common room, glancing around and wondering why his siblings had been delayed. Gaara and his team had gone out to Dakanii Oasis, he thought, and Temari had been assigned on a team with Baki for a short mission to a nearby village. Both missions should have been trouble-free.

He didn't make it two steps into the room when his three cats burst from the direction of the staircase and trotted over to him, demanding attention. He smiled at them and knelt on the floor, doing his best to pet them all at once. "I'll pet ya, I'll pet ya!" he said as they butted into his legs and knocked each other out of the way. "Yeah, see? I'm petting ya."

The house was, ironically, far from empty. In fact, from Baki's point of view it was quite full. From the part of the room where Temari, Gaara, and he stood, however, Kankuro would never see them.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Temari and he had come back from their mission and gone into the kitchen to cook something to hold them over until Kankuro got back. And in the instant that Baki was bringing a pot to the sink to fill it with water, asking Temari whether she preferred ramen or udon, he found himself instead in a dark, strange, removed space that was somehow connected to the house he'd just left. He watched the pot clatter to the floor with disbelief, wondering why he had suddenly become a disembodied spirit. Then Temari rushed forward, crossing the space where he'd been, and appeared beside him as well.

Two hours of humiliation and boredom later, Temari and Baki had the pleasure of watching the same fate befall Gaara as he went to pick up the pot on the floor. While Gaara had looked around wildly, Baki had simply smacked his forehead and then sat on the floor with a groan. He left Temari to explain the whole business, busy contemplating for himself the meaning of this: The council had betrayed them and engineered a trap in the Kazekage Mansion. Or someone on the council had, Baki had no doubt. It was too much of a coincidence. _Councilman Unji makes a comment how we would all be better off without Yondaime's children, and now the mansion has been booby-trapped with some kind of jutsu that removes us from the world proper?_ He smirked. _Hmm, I wonder. Those rumors about Unji being the secret head of ANBU are totally on target._

So when Kankuro had announced, 'I'm home,' in fact three people heard him and all cringed.

The extra-dimensional room was somehow everywhere and nowhere. Baki was able to walk beside Kankuro as Kankuro entered the foyer and yet not touch him, divided by some kind of odd light/darkness. It was hard to tell. The floor where Baki stood was black, and an odd red light radiated around the edges and above him without interfering with his ability to see the mansion.

Gaara and Temari watched from several feet away. Gaara was chewing his lip — a nervous habit he rarely employed and a sign of his sheer worry.

Baki repeatedly tried to touch Kankuro's shoulder while Kankuro petted the cats and came up against the invisible barrier. He punched it several times. No noise, nothing. Just the feeling of hitting something solid.

"He's going into the kitchen," Temari said, matter-of-fact. "That's where we all went."

"No," Gaara protested.

"He's gonna see the pot on the floor," Temari said.

"Stop it," Baki said absently.

Temari crossed her arms.

Kankuro switched back and forth between his brindle cat, Akako; his calico, Chika; and his solid white cat, Kouta. All three had collapsed on their sides around him, Kouta rolling over on his back so Kankuro would pet his stomach. "Okay," he told them fondly. "It's food time, yeah? Temari and Gaara should be back soon. Shoulda been here already, even." He stood and headed into the kitchen, then paused in the doorway as he saw the pot in the middle of the floor. "Okay . . ." _That's totally weird. That wasn't here this morning. Did Temari come in and then leave? What would make her drop a pot and leave it?_

Given the break-in the night before, he had a really bad feeling about what that might mean.

Baki raced to get in front of Kankuro, even though he'd found that this odd dimension would just place him above Kankuro's head if he tried to collide. Or to the side. Or behind him. Baki wasn't sure why that happened. "He knows something wrong." _Don't pick it up. Leave it. Get help._

Gaara went wide-eyed and then shot Temari a glare. "Niisan won't do what we did. He'll be smart. He's not going to go near it. He'll sense something."

"Like what?" Temari grumbled.

"He has better sensing abilities than we do," Gaara insisted. "He'll have to sense something wrong and not step on that spot on the floor. He's smart."

Kankuro scanned the mansion one more time, double-checking for chakra, but felt nothing. Akako and Chika had joined him in the doorway, stopping by him. Kouta remained in the common room instead of racing into the kitchen and demanding food. "I don't like this," he told his cats, then walked over, picking up the pot and setting it in the dish drain. A shiver raced down his spine, and he turned around, glancing around the room. _What the hell was that?_ He sharpened his chakra scan. His sensory abilities were significantly above average, although he'd received little training for them. All the sharpened scan did, though, was pinpoint the spirit of his maternal grandpa. His grandpa was standing to his right by the stove.

He glanced at him. "What was that?" He cleared his mind, trying to listen for an answer. He couldn't always get one. His thoughts had to be very still, and he couldn't be too tired.

_"From . . . space . . . su,"_ came the faint response.

Kankuro couldn't make any sense out of that. "Well . . . whatever." He headed upstairs, shivering again as he left the room. He wanted to change clothes and get the scrolls off his back.

Temari's jaw dropped. She watched Kankuro walk out of the room. "No way."

"Doesn't it work anymore?" Gaara's brow furrowed.

"Never mind that." Baki nearly vibrated with a combination of tension and hope. "Kankuro can find a way to get us out of here. He'll figure it out as long as he remains free. I know he will." He had faith in Kankuro. Unfortunately, he was also really worried about Kankuro's safety.

Gaara sat down and crossed his legs underneath him. He closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees. There was a limit to how far they could go. He'd already tested the boundaries. They were apparently somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. They couldn't go upstairs. Gaara simply had to be patient.

Temari looked at Gaara suspiciously. "What're you doing?"

"I'll wait."

Temari rubbed the bridge of her nose and began pacing.

Ten minutes later, Kankuro returned downstairs after washing his face and donning a navy-blue yukata with a white bamboo pattern. He was becoming increasingly fond of wearing yukata around the house and had even begun to wonder if there were a way to use one as his shinobi uniform. _Maybe if I cut slits up the sides and wear pants under it._ He'd already retired his original bunraku uniform, replacing it with a plain pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt that he secured with a red belt.

He padded into the kitchen, considered the empty house plus the rumbling in his stomach, and summarily dismissed the idea of cooking. He'd wait until his siblings came home. He didn't cook for fun, usually. He liked making up new dishes and experimenting with spices simply because it appealed to his creativity; the cooking itself was a pain. So, with a sigh, he opened the cabinets one at time, scanning the contents. "No," he mumbled, taking in canned food, pasta, and protein bars. Retreating to the refrigerator, he tried again. As soon as his gaze landed on leftovers he wrinkled his nose. "Hell no."

With a sense of dissatisfaction, he grabbed a bagel, toasted it, and spread peanut butter on it. Then he retreated to the kitchen table, where he'd left a pad of paper the previous night, and dutifully began writing up his mission report. He wanted all his work out of the way so he could relax, and the report wouldn't write itself.

Temari stared, several feet away where the far side of the kitchen cabinets should be. "What's he doing?"

"Writing up his mission report," Baki said. He stood over Kankuro's shoulder, looking down at what Kankuro was writing.

"Why?" Temari asked.

Baki glanced up at her with a glare. "Because he has to."

"I know that," Temari retorted. "Why now?"

Gaara seemed disinterested in the conversation.

"It looks like he's working," Baki said mildly. He was well aware that Temari delayed her mission reports as long as possible. "He wants to get it out of the way." His lips twitched in a smile, purposefully rubbing it in.

Temari crossed her arms and turned away. She only managed it for a few moments before reluctantly padding over and looking down at Kankuro as well, standing on Kankuro's left side.  
>Finally, she said, "He's working. Without complaining or anything."<p>

Gaara opened one eye. "What's strange about that? Niisan never complains."

"I just. . . " Temari shrugged, looking stricken. "He's all grown up."

Baki glanced at her, saw her face, and didn't comment. _It's about time._ Baki had noticed Kankuro had grown up quite some time ago and wondered why Temari hadn't.

Once he'd eaten his bagel and finished his report, Kankuro ripped off the top page and grabbed himself a glass of water. Then he retreated to the kotatsu table in the common room, where the previous evening he'd left the files on his team. He tossed down the report and opened the first file. Now that he was a chuunin — and was working hard to make jonin by his seventeenth birthday — he'd been assigned his own team. The Puppet Corps had petitioned the Council of Elders to assign Kankuro an all-puppeteer team, and they had agreed. To Kankuro's relief, they'd assigned him three fellow chuunin, all boys he was friends with. They didn't make a glamorous team; from an outsider's view they were a prankster, a recluse, and a geek led by a smartass. However, their strengths and weaknesses were well-balanced, and they functioned cohesively.

Kankuro pulled the top folder off the stack and set to work. His job was to note all recent growth and achievements, cataloguing everything the council could use should any of them apply for promotion.

When he opened the folder, he found the file for his best friend, Shiro, who he'd been hanging out with since they were nine years old.

"Here goes," he sighed. Akako hopped up on the kotatsu table and stretched out, providing him company. Chika curled up by his leg, adding herself to the lineup. Kouta hopped on the couch and watched from his perch.

Kankuro scanned the first page:

Name: Shiro  
>Age: 16<br>Rank: chuunin  
>Height: 5'4<br>Weight: 124 lbs  
>Puppets: 1, Aka Ari<p>

Kankuro skipped to the section on mission performance and began jotting down notes.

Temari followed Kankuro as well, adding invisible company to the cats. "He's working so hard."

Baki glanced at her again. _She's having a rude awakening._

Gaara didn't say anything.

Baki turned his attention to thinking about the logistics of being stuck in a place where no one could see them or hear them. Kankuro would discover they were missing tomorrow. Then Kankuro would figure something out, or the council would eventually succeed in starving the three of them to death.

Kankuro set aside the first file and moved to the second, opening it. Once again, his gaze fell on the first page, showing him the name of a quiet boy one year his senior:

Name: Daiki  
>Age: 17<br>Rank: chuunin  
>Height: 6'0<br>Weight: 145 lbs  
>Puppets: 2, Spider and Demon Onna<p>

Once more, Kankuro blew past the first page and jotted down notes under mission performance. However, his concentration began to waver. _Why aren't Temari and Gaara home yet? They should've beaten me back by hours. Plus the pot on the floor . . . Are they okay?_

"Why is he pausing?" Temari asked.

Baki looked over at Kankuro. He stood in the hallway. "He's probably figuring out that we would be home by now."

"Then he'll — "

Baki hated to crush the hope he saw on her face, but he needed her to hold herself together in the long run. "He won't know we're not coming back until tomorrow."

"Why?" Temari protested.

"Missions go wrong," Gaara said without opening his eyes. "He'll assume we're delayed."

Temari fell silent, looking down at Kankuro with concern.

With a worried sigh, Kankuro set aside the folder and pulled out the last one, which by default had to belong to the boy widely believed to be a total geek. Kankuro opened the folder to the first page, staring at the contents almost blankly in his preoccupation:

Name: Kenji  
>Age: 15<br>Rank: chuunin  
>Height: 5'2<br>Weight: 165 lbs  
>Puppets: 1, Turtle<p>

For a long moment, Kankuro didn't flip to the mission section. Instead he stared at the first page, his thoughts turning in circles. _What if they were injured? And Baki! Baki was with Temari today. What if Baki were injured, too?_ The thought numbed Kankuro with cold fear. _If I lost one of them . . . any of them . . ._ He didn't let himself consider losing all of them at once. "Pull it together!" he snapped at himself. Delayed missions were routine.

Except he had a bad feeling, there was the abandoned pot, and then there was the cold chakra on the bubble tea cup the night before.

He flipped to the mission section and jotted down notes quickly. _As soon as I do this, I gotta come up with a plan._ He chewed on his lip as he worked.

Temari had jumped at Kankuro's outburst.

Baki suddenly wished he could wrap his arms around Kankuro and hug him. He crossed his arms over his stomach.

Tears suddenly sprang to Temari's eyes. "I will," she said in a scratchy whisper. "I'll wait until you get us outta here."

"He can't hear you," Gaara said calmly, still sitting cross-legged on the far end of the dimensional room.

Temari turned on her heel and snapped at him, "Then I'll tell him when he gets us out!" She planted her hands on her hips. "I'll tell him he did a good job, and I'm proud of him."

"Good," Gaara said simply. "It's about time."

Temari slowly slumped and looked at the floor. Her reply was almost inaudible. "Yeah."

Setting aside the final folder, Kankuro stood, scattering Chika in the process. Akako sat up, and Kouta opened his eyes, rotating his ears forward.

"I don't like this," he told them. "Something's off. I gotta do something here."

The problem was what.

The easiest explanation was actually that Gaara's team was delayed in getting back from the oasis — it was further out that the small village Temari and Baki had visited — and Temari had come home already. Then, perhaps, one of her friends had stopped in with upsetting news. Given that the pot was on the floor, Kankuro had a bad feeling like one of Temari's friends might have been killed on a mission.

The easiest way to check his initial theory was to simply go to Baki's house and see if he were home.  
>Mind made up, Kankuro stalked into the foyer, slipped on a pair of geta, and left.<p>

Temari ran after him and got the door slid shut in her face. "Where's he going?"

Baki sighed. "Probably to the council."

"I hope not," Gaara said quietly.

Temari slowly turned and looked at the both of them. "What do you mean?"

"This is another plot to kill me," Gaara said quietly.

Temari's eyes widened. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tightly. "Come on, it's been two years since you were — "

"Exactly," Gaara said dryly, opening his eyes and gazing up at her. "Besides. I told the council yesterday I wanted to become Kazekage."

"You mean — " As Temari absorbed that and the implications of her current position, her eye twitched.

"They acted quickly." Gaara shut his eyes again.

Baki rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

Temari turned back towards the front door. "We're gonna be killed. He better know what he's doing."

"Kankuro always knows what he's doing," Baki said.

"Maybe he's going to your house," Gaara suggested.

"God, I hope so."

"But you're not there." Temari stared at her former teacher.

Baki raised an eyebrow.

Temari smacked her forehead. "Dumb. Right. Sorry." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "He'll see you're not there."

Baki nodded slowly.

Thirty minutes later, Kankuro returned, more disgruntled than before. Baki hadn't been home, which suggested their team was still out, and Kankuro didn't know their other two team members well enough to find them and verify. The only person Kankuro knew on Gaara's team was Miya, who was Shiro's girlfriend. He'd stopped by Shiro's house, hoping to ask him if his girlfriend were back home, but he found the entire family out. He'd even waited five minutes, pondering his choices, before leaving. Really, though, there wasn't much he could do. He had no idea where Miya lived, so he couldn't go verify that she wasn't home. And, honestly, to everyone else, Kankuro's actions would look hysterical.

Kankuro kicked off his geta with more force than necessary and retreated to the rocker-recliner. _Nothing. There's nothing I can do until morning. It's after 8PM now, so there's no one at the Complex to question. The Council won't meet again until tomorrow morning._ He sighed. _You know everyone would say you're overreacting._

"I can hear Grandfather now," he complained to his other grandpa, who he had located during his habitual chakra scan of the mansion. "He'd say, 'If you worry about every little thing like this, you'll worry yourself into the grave. Suck it up. Your neesan can take care of herself.'" Except it wasn't just his sister now. "But fucking damnit!" He couldn't help himself. He paused, straining to hear his grandpa's answer.

_" . . . sense . . . wrong."_

Kankuro filled in the context for himself. "You're damn right I sense something wrong." He glanced up at his grandpa's spirit, which was hovering by the chair. "What if they're injured?" Kankuro couldn't hear his grandpa's reply; he was too upset now.

Kouta hopped into his lap, curling up and offering comfort to the human who'd saved him from the streets.

Temari had watched Kankuro storm in past her and then hesitantly followed him into the living room, though stood by the couch. She rested her hand against her chest, eyes wide. "He worries about me?" she whispered.

Baki glowered at her. "He worries about everybody. You and Gaara especially."

Temari flinched.

Gaara finally seemed to tire of sitting apart and walked over to Kankuro's chair, looking down at Kankuro pensively. "I wonder who he's talking to."

"He's talking to himself, probably." Temari looked away. "He always used to do that. He called it spirits." She snorted. "But come on. That was his little kid answer for 'don't make fun of me.'"

"Spirits, huh?" Baki murmured.

Temari glanced at him. "I wouldn't take it seriously."

"Why not?" Gaara asked. "Shukaku's a spirit."

"Shukaku's a monster, not a — " Temari stopped herself. She held up her hands. "Okay, you're right. I give up."

"We're in a position awfully similar to a spirit's right now," Baki pointed out. "We're invisible and can't interact."

Temari chewed on her lip. "Okay. Right. Sure . . ." She trailed off for a moment. "That's true."

Kankuro flipped on the television and surfed through the limited channels Suna had to offer, given television was a fairly recent invention. He got annoyed at every program he found and ended up blankly staring at a cooking show — the topic of the day was how to prepare maki sushi — before realizing he hadn't eaten enough for supper. His appetite was gone, though.

In the end, he fell asleep in the chair, the muted television providing the room with its only light as the sun set, with Kouta on his lap, Akako on the top of the chair back, and Chika asleep on his ankles from where he'd lifted the recliner's footrest. His dreams were fitful and plagued, filled with images of his siblings and Baki talking randomly around him.

Temari stared down at Kankuro's sleeping form. "He fell asleep without making himself supper or anything."

"He doesn't cook when we're not around," Gaara said flatly.

Temari looked at him.

"I told you that before." Gaara stared her down.

Temari threw up her hands. "He said he likes cooking!"

Gaara looked away, exasperated. "Well, he doesn't. He's just being nice. Because he's our brother."

Temari attempted to flop down on the sofa and bounced off onto the floor of their prison. "God, I can't even sleep on the couch tonight?"

"None of us can," Baki said. "We're not really here. We're in another dimension, remember?"

"Shit."

"Niisan's in the worse position," Gaara said quietly. "He's worried about us."

Baki sighed. _I know. I wish there were something I could do. I'm the sensei._ Not being able to help caused him a special sort of pain.

* * *

><p>Just before midnight, Kankuro snapped awake, opening his eyes without moving. A random sound, perhaps a thump, had jerked him out of a dream in which Baki had been standing by his chair, worried about him.<p>

For a moment, he didn't move.

Kouta hopped off his lap, crouching low on the floor and staring at the window to his left. Chika was gone. In his peripheral vision, Kankuro saw Akako slink under the couch.

A wave of goosebumps passed over his skin.

_That sound was real._ He threw out his chakra sensing ability, scanning the house.

Nothing.

He pushed the sensory 'bubble' beyond the mansion walls and felt an unfamiliar chakra just outside.

_Someone is here._

Baki had turned around at the sound of the thump; he'd been pacing in the living room. He glanced at Kankuro and saw it had awakened Kankuro as well. "What was that?"

"Someone is here." Gaara's voice was flat. His eyes were icy with a mixture of concentration and anger.

Temari rubbed her eyes and got up off the floor. "What? What's going on?"

"Another intruder," Gaara growled. He clenched his fists. "In my mansion."

Temari let the ownership issue slide.

Baki could see her thinking, _You're not Kazekage yet,_ though. Baki crossed the room to Kankuro in spite of the knowledge that he couldn't interfere in a fight.

Kankuro's first thought was that someone had arrived to deliver bad news, and it made his stomach quiver. However, he hadn't lifted his sensory bubble, and he read the chakra as cold. That kept him frozen, motionless — feigning sleep. _An intruder?_ he wondered. _The same one as last night?_

Kouta, still crouched low, slinked across the floor on his belly and disappeared behind the couch.

The television broadcast was nothing more than a replay of the earlier cooking show. The credits were rolling, the changing pictures of food making shadows jump on the walls. With the volume muted, Kankuro was able to strain his hearing for the faintest sound. _If this is a break in, I better get some weapons._

He could feel the chakra moving down the outside wall behind him toward the door. The person was definitely creeping. Kankuro stood, moving to the end table by the couch and silently pulling out the drawer. They always left kunai there.

On the television, a picture of the Suna symbol popped up as the village anthem was played. With the white background, it made the room flash bright.

Kankuro reached into the drawer and pulled out two kunai, then moved on silent feet to the wall by the foyer, listening for the door. The person would have to pick the lock.

_What is this about?_ he wondered, nearly holding his breath. _My siblings don't come home; someone is creeping up on my door in the night . . ._

On the television screen, the Suna symbol vanished, the channel ceasing broadcast at exactly midnight. The image dissolved into black and white static, dropping the room into darkness.

Kankuro strained both his hearing and his sensing, but no further movement came.

After a minute, the chakra signature retreated. Kankuro remained where he was, distrustful.

Baki waited tensely by Kankuro in the darkness, chakra rippling through him in spite of himself. _Good, Kankuro. Defend yourself._ He was proud of his former students' preparation in keeping weapons handy.

Gaara looked angry. "Useless. We're so useless."

Baki's chest felt tight. _I know. Don't remind me._

"Don't let them in, Niisan," Gaara suddenly ordered. "Don't let them hurt you."

Baki turned on his heel, surprised, and crossed over to Gaara. "It's all right. It's not your fault."

Gaara squeezed his eyes shut. "I could have — I should have —"

Baki hugged him. That shut Gaara up rather effectively. Baki held Gaara against his chest. _It's all right. It has to be._ Gaara allowed himself to be held, posing no struggle.

Temari watched them with an odd expression.

After an entire ten minutes of scanning, Kankuro ascertained that the person had either withdrawn out of his sensory range or left. _I'm not safe._ That certainty made him nearly wild with worry for Baki and his siblings. He had no evidence, no facts, no clues other than the pot and the bubble tea cup, but he was still sure he was in mortal danger. He kept the kunai with him, retreating to the hallway. In times like these, when he was overwhelmed with the sense of danger, there was only one course of action.

He walked up to the side of the staircase, a place where in any other Suna household there would be a cupboard. Instead there was an old mural of a samurai in red and grey armor. Kankuro bit his thumb, rubbing the blood over the samurai's red sleeve. "Summoning jutsu," he whispered. The wall transformed into a door, which slid open to reveal a passageway beyond.

Kankuro stepped into it, hitting a lever to close the door behind him. Once it did, a torch flamed into life in the stone passage below him, revealing the stone staircase that extended into the secret half of the basement. He headed down the stairs, the stones cold to his bare feet.

Temari followed Kankuro to the mural, watching with wide eyes. When the door disappeared, she stared at the mural blankly. "No way. . . "

"A secret passage," Gaara said quietly.

Temari slowly shook her head. "No way."

"Niisan knew about it," Gaara said.

Temari just started after Kankuro. "He's disappeared into the wall," she said to no one in particular.

"A secret passageway," Gaara said as though he thought Temari hadn't heard him.

This time, his sister didn't respond, clearly shocked by this sudden revelation.

_Well, well,_ Baki thought. He appraised the samurai mural with new interest. _Yondaime, you had a secret passageway in your house. How long has Kankuro known about this, I wonder? _

Kankuro hurried down the passageway. Every six feet there was a torch; as soon as one lit, the one behind him grew dark again. When he'd been nine years old, his paternal grandmother — the daughter of Niidaime Kazekage — had shown him the maze hidden inside the mansion and had him sign the contract that would allow him to access it. She'd explained quietly, with the greatest amount of animation he'd ever seen from her, that only one member of the Kazekage's family was to know of the maze at any time. She hadn't explained why or how she'd become the possessor of such knowledge. She hadn't even explained why she'd chosen him; they had no relationship to speak of. She'd simply walked away.

By the following evening, she had died.

Over the years, Kankuro had been grateful for her single act of love or mercy toward him. Any time Gaara had gone on a rampage, any time Temari had refused to get off his case, any time his father and Gaara had been at odds, and any time his paternal grandfather had so much as set foot in the house, Kankuro had retreated into the passageways. Most of them were underground, although there was a ladder up to a small room on each level of the mansion, including the attic. He could access the passageway from any floor as a result, each level having a samurai mural in red and grey. There was even a passageway to a room with a teleportation circle. Kankuro had tried it once and ended up in a secret room in one of Suna's abandoned outposts.

But for this night, he headed to the large room tucked into a cellar dug one level deeper than the basement. The room contained a cot, a table, several oil lamps, a bookcase, and two large storage chests. Kankuro had discovered old diaries there, along with a shrine to some long-dead man. In the course of hiding, he'd read all the diaries and learned more about past Kazekages and his grandmother.

For tonight, though, he burrowed under the heap of blankets on the cot, leaving the kunai under the pillow, and waited for daybreak.

He needed to figure out who to talk to. Who to trust. Because he had a bad feeling that he wouldn't find his siblings home in the morning either. He had a bad feeling like someone wanted them all dead.

_Oh, God . . . don't let them be dead already._ Kankuro curled in on himself, terrified that the three of people he loved most in the world were gone.

When he fell asleep again, it was merely an accident brought on by sheer exhaustion.


	3. Puppet Corps Gang

**Chapter Three: Puppet Corps Gang**

In the morning, Kankuro climbed the stairs, retreated to the nearest bathroom, and then stood in the middle of the common room, awash with abject misery.

A simple scan told him what he didn't want to know: He was still alone.

"Fucking damnit." His voice was a whisper. His cats emerged and swiped at his legs, but he didn't bend down to pet them. _What do I do?_ He decided he'd recheck Baki's then try to locate Miya. Past that, a logical choice would've been to check with the Council for news, but the dropped pot and the midnight stalker dissuaded him from that idea.

The primary possibility was simple: Someone was trying to kill Gaara again. And possibly all Yondaime's children.

_Makes a horrible amount of sense,_ Kankuro thought, frowning as he stared at the floor. _Gaara announced the other day he wants to be Kazekage. The Council has been getting along without a Kazekage for two years now. Maybe they've decided to make sure none of us can claim the title. And if so they'd definitely take out Baki, too, because he cares about us and works to protect us._

For a moment, Kankuro thought he might panic.

"I wish Baki were here," he whispered to himself. To the cats. To his grandpa. It wasn't just because Baki was older and more experienced. It wasn't just because Baki always seemed to know what to do. It wasn't even only because Baki had taken an interest in Yondaime's children and protected them.

To Kankuro, Baki was a best friend, a confidant, a singularly precious person. As close as Kankuro was to Shiro, this was different. His relationship to Baki was deeper somehow. Not just filled with more philosophical talk, either. It was like a rock-solid foundation under his feet.

Baki stared at Kankuro, standing no more than three feet away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Temari and Gaara were stricken as well. But he couldn't explain to them why Kankuro's agonized whisper cut him to the core. _I am here. I am._ Baki pressed one fist to his chest. _Oh, God._

Gaara walked over and took his arm, gently pulling him away before he could make a fool of himself trying to touch someone he couldn't.

"I'm sorry," Gaara said.

Baki looked at the floor. "'Sokay."

Gaara stroked his arm, apparently compelled to return the care Baki had shown him yesterday. Baki couldn't deny that it helped.

"God," Temari said, "this sucks."

Kankuro sighed, then headed upstairs, taking a five-minute shower and donning his uniform. Once he'd tied on his three puppet scrolls, he returned downstairs, grabbed a protein bar out of the cabinet and a water bottle from the refrigerator, then stopped in the foyer to put on his sandals. He completed the entire process with the blank numbness caused by suppressing panic. Then he left, heading to Baki's house first.

The three people he wanted to save watched him from the hallway, staring after him with bleak hope.

Unsurprisingly, Kankuro found that Baki wasn't home. He stood on the doorstep, the protein bar more like sawdust in his mouth, and finished his breakfast as he thought.

He needed to find Miya now.

With grim determination, he headed to First Street, where all the little cafes were. Sometimes Shiro and Miya met there for breakfast. If he had any luck left, they had done so this morning, and he could catch them. He scanned the street closely as he headed to their favorite coffee shop. The passerby seemed sinister today. Frowning. Staring. From the corners of his vision, Kankuro detected flickers of movement, and he wondered if he were being tracked.

_God, are they already dead? Will I die this morning, too?_ He pushed the thought away.

Miya wasn't sitting down at the coffee shop, but incredibly, she was walking down the street in the direction of the market, a wicker basket with a checked red handkerchief in it swinging on her arm. Her light brown hair was tied back in a long ponytail. She wore a bright, absentminded smile.

Kankuro saw the familiar ponytail and ran forward several steps until he could see her more clearly and verify it was her. Once he had, he sprinted toward her. "Hey! Miya-chan!"

"Hmm?" Miya swung around. Her eyes widened at the sight of Kankuro running towards her. "Kankuro-kun!" She hastily bowed. "Ohayo." When she straightened, she asked, "What's wrong? You seem like you're in a hurry."

Kankuro decided he better not say much in public. "Yeah, I am." He tried to sound as normal as possible. The mere fact he was talking to her at all confirmed his fear: Gaara should be back and wasn't. And to Kankuro, that pointed rather clearly to a plot to kill his ototo. _God!_ "Hey, you seen Gaara this morning?" He had to find some way to pump her for information that wouldn't be blatant to eavesdroppers.

Miya's mouth opened in surprise. She checked herself, frowning in thought. "No, I haven't." Miya glanced around and put on a smile that was clearly skin deep. "Haven't you seen him, Kankuro-kun?" She tilted her head, but her pointed look towards a nearby alley was anything but casual. She took his arm and walked away from the alley, leading him back towards the coffee shop. The bright bounce in her step was also fake. "It's so good to see you this morning."

Kankuro took the cue and let himself be pulled along. "You, too," he said, a picture of feigned cheer. "Nah, I haven't seen him. He must've headed out early this morning. But, man, I didn't get to hear about your mission yesterday. How'd it go?" He hoped that would narrow down the information he wanted verified.

"We got back by six o'clock," Miya said with a small laugh. "The oasis was an easy mission. Gaara-san did fine. He is a good leader. I like him a lot." Message: I'm worried. We better find him.

Kankuro glanced at his best friend's girlfriend, taking in her light brown eyes, noting the faint spattering of freckles peeking around her nose and eyes, and realizing she wasn't as annoying as he'd first thought she was. She was actually kind of cool. _She's worried about my ototo. And she wants to help._ "I'm glad," he said sincerely. He scrambled to form a plan and realized that Shiro really was one of the few people he could trust in this moment. "So where's your significant other?"

"Oh, Shiro-kun?" Miya pretended to think. "He's at the Theatre. He should be. I saw him head out for there, and he said he was going to be there." She shrugged. "Well. I'm sorry I can't help more. Tell me when you find Gaara-san and be sure to hang out with me and Shiro-kun sometime soon. We'd like that." She patted her basket. "I'm afraid I have to be shopping. Mother is expecting me to be back with the groceries in less than an hour." Miya gave him a concerned look. Message: You should go to the Theatre as quickly as possible. I can't come with you. That'd look suspicious, especially since I'm out on an errand already headed the other way.

Kankuro nodded, signaling that he'd understood her. "Thanks, Miya-chan." He released her arm. "See ya!" He sprinted away, staying down in the streets despite the crowd. If he took to the rooftops, he'd be easier to capture because he wouldn't be in plain sight.

Within a few minutes, he'd made it to the towering front door of the Theatre, which was the main building of the complex that housed the Puppet Corps. Roughly forty percent of Suna's shinobi were in the Puppet Corps, making it the most powerful division in Suna. So powerful, in fact, that it functioned pseudo-independently from the Council and had once fought Niidaime Kazekage to a standstill when he'd demanded to assume full control of the Theatre and its inner workings.

This level of power, this independence, was precisely what made Kankuro relax as he stepped into the forty-foot high foyer. No non-puppeteer would chase him into this building. And if they did, they'd never get past the foyer. Non-puppeteers weren't allowed past the foyer. Not even the Kazekage was permitted past the foyer without a direct invitation from the Troupe Master and an escort. If the man or men tracking Kankuro tried to take him from inside the Theatre, they would be instantly killed.

Kankuro allowed his shoulders to slump as he took in the familiar white and black-tiled floor, the white walls, and the wrought iron chandeliers. _Temporarily safe._

Only when he saw his team standing by the "box office," which was the front desk, did he belatedly realize he was fifteen minutes late for duty. Even for someone as perpetually late as he was, fifteen minutes was pushing it.

He turned toward Shiro, Daiki, and Kenji and then frowned.

"Sempai!" Kenji called out. He waved. His demeanor always changed around Kankuro. Kankuro was one of the only people he wouldn't make fun of. Sometimes that elite group didn't even include Daiki, his best friend. Kenji was by far the shortest person in the group, especially so when standing next to his best friend. Kenji's round face was worried. "How come you're late?"

Daiki, standing next to Kenji, was silent as usual, but he did look curious.

"Yeah, man," Shiro called from his position leaning against the desk. His spiky, brown hair, which his sisters all claimed looked like a broom, was still wet, but his grin was shiny. "You're late even for you!"

Kankuro walked over to his friends, stopping by Shiro's side. They were roughly the same height, so Kankuro met his gaze easily. "Costume room. Now."

It was an order.

He led them across the foyer to the side door, taking them down a hallway that bypassed the "auditorium," which was the exhibition dojo for tournaments and performances. Backstage there was a room where one could apply one's face paint, but since it was usually only used for tournaments, it often served a second purpose: a safe meeting room for teams.

More to the point, it was soundproofed for that purpose.

"Hai!" Kenji scrambled to obey, grabbing Daiki's arm and yanking him along when his friend didn't move fast enough.

Once they were there, Kenji looked up at Kankuro with wide eyes. "Something is up."

Kankuro gazed at the boys who'd been his friends or acquaintances since the academy. Shiro, who was a perfectly average-looking guy, was happy-go-lucky, although right now he was frowning. Daiki, who was tall and ultra-thin, was reserved and often silent. And Kenji, who was short and plump, was highly intelligent. What he needed them for right now, though, wasn't the traits everyone saw on the surface when they looked at them. He needed their friendship, and he needed their skill.

For Shiro, that meant craftiness.

For Daiki, that meant spying.

For Kenji, that meant researching.

"Gaara and Temari never came home last night," Kankuro said bluntly. "I checked Baki's house. He's not there either." His arms and legs felt cold as he coughed up the details. "I don't want to talk much here. Even _here._ But I don't like this. Miya verified Gaara came back with their team yesterday. I don't know about Baki's team and Temari, but I found a pot in the middle of the  
>kitchen floor. Randomly. It wasn't there when I left yesterday. And in the middle of the night, someone was slinking around outside the mansion."<p>

Shiro listened to this with wide eyes and for once didn't speak immediately.

Kenji's jaw dropped. "Oh my God!"

Daiki flinched slightly at this outburst.

Kenji's eyes narrowed. "So they came home and vanished again, and no one knows where they are. We have to search your house for clues. You've gotta know something's around there that can tell the story. I'm sure of it. Holy crap, Sempai, someone is trying to kill you. You know you've gotta be next."

"Dramatic," Daiki said. He paused, looking thoughtful. "Probably right." He ran a hand through his ragged blonde hair. "Your brother's missing."

"And someone tried to kill him," Kenji said. "I'm sure of it. People're always trying to kill Gaara. That's the way they are around here." Kenji usually filled in Daiki's conclusions. He had to. Daiki always stopped talking before he was really finished. "And you're his brother, so they're trying to kill you, too. Maybe they're even going for you on purpose. Who knows." Kenji thought. "You definitely need help." He glanced around at the group. "We're gonna have to involve teachers at some point." He sighed.

Daiki blinked at that sudden prediction.

"I can feel it," Kenji explained, glancing up at his friend. He spread his hands. "This is big news."

Shiro nodded, having dropped into his Serious Mode. "Kenji's right. They've probably made another attempt on Gaara. Must've caught Temari at the same time. And Baki-sensei. Since someone was lurking last night, Baki-sensei and Temari might have been taken on purpose, not as some kinda 'You-saw-it-so-we-gotta-take-you-too' kinda thing." He glanced at Kenji. "I don't wanna say it, but I'm thinking you're right, man. And with Chiyo-baasama being retired, my guess is we'll end up taking this either to the Troupe Master himself or to Sakuya-sama."

Kankuro frowned. Sakuya, who was codenamed Princess after her first puppet — as all puppeteers were — was a peer of Chiyo's and had refused to retire. He and his friends had nicknamed her Creepy Old Lady, and for good reason. He didn't cherish the idea of asking her for help. At the same time, Kankuro had a basic difference of philosophy with the Troupe Master, who was all about logic, reason, stoicism, numbers, efficiency, and end results. He didn't want to ask him either.

"We were scheduled to train today," Kankuro said, launching a plan immediately. "I'll say I'm taking you guys out for desert training, and then we'll go to the mansion and search for clues."

Kenji nodded decisively. "Right."

Daiki nodded as well.

Shiro looked to Kankuro. "Lead the way, Crow."

Kankuro did just that, stopping by the front desk to log their pretend destination and then heading to the private wing of the Kazekage Complex. He completely bypassed the public section, the jonin, and the council, not trusting them at all.

When he reached his front door, Kankuro scanned the wing for chakra signatures. Just like the night before, all he picked up was his grandpa's spirit, now in addition to his friends. Reassured that no one was lying in wait, Kankuro slid open the door and stepped into the foyer, ditching his sandals.

"All right," he said, leading them into the living room. "Let's get started. They would've had to have come through here, and clearly someone went into the kitchen as well."

Shiro pulled off his sandals, set his bandaged puppet in the foyer, and joined Kankuro. "Was there anything else out of place?"

Kankuro shook his head. "Not today. Someone did drink Temari's bubble tea the night before, though, so someone's been in the mansion."

"Okay, that's weird." Shiro sounded creeped out.

Kenji and Daiki followed suit, taking off their sandals and leaving them next to Kankuro's and Shiro's. Kenji looked around with curiosity. This was his first time in Kankuro's house. Daiki didn't display a similar curiosity, even though it was his first time, too. He looked steadily at Kankuro, taking in Kankuro's responses instead.

Kenji spread his hands out and squinted one eye. He was often called a dork for doing it, but he couldn't concentrate on using his sensory talent if he didn't. "I don't sense anything. The energy's pretty stable in this room. Nothing was moved." He was great at sensing the residue of chakra on inanimate objects. He called it chakra dust. If the chakra dust hadn't moved, it meant objects weren't disturbed. He'd found things for his friends before using that method. He dropped his hands to his sides and turned to Kankuro. "You better show me the kitchen. Show me where the pot was and maybe I'll find something. There has to be something to the fact that a pot was lying on the floor. We'll just have to figure out what it is."

Daiki touched his chin, paused, and then nodded.

Kankuro's cats had emerged from nowhere and were brushing against his legs. He carefully stepped over them and headed into the kitchen. "I found it in front of the sink," he said, stopping in the middle of the floor.

His cats followed them in as well, walking around the edge of the room and heading to their food and water bowls. Kankuro watched this, thinking it odd, but didn't comment. _Why not just walk across the center of the floor like usual?_

"I don't like it," Kenji said suddenly. "It's weird in here."

Daiki rubbed his arms. "Chilly."

Kenji squinted, holding out his hands again. "No, it's more than that." He crept towards the sink. "You said this spot? This spot here?" He stared down at the floor in front of him.

Kankuro remembered that he'd shivered the night before when he'd entered the kitchen. "Yeah."

Shiro stepped into the doorway, staring down at the spot. "Well, if — " He stopped abruptly. "Uh . . . guys?" Shiro's entire posture straightened in a way it rarely ever did. "Look at your ankles."

Kenji immediately looked down. "Yikes a million!" He scratched at the light green vine tattoo on his ankle. "It's glowing."

Daiki looked down without comment. His black barbed wire tattoo was emitting light as well.

Kankuro lifted up his pants leg slightly and stuck out his foot, examining his ankle. The black barbed wire tattoo on his left ankle was glowing green as well. "All our initiation tats are going off." He had no idea what to think. All puppeteers were required to get them; they only came in three designs and three colors and always went on one's ankle. Far from a simple initiation rite, though, the tattoos were widely known to do . . . something. No one was quite sure what, and the senior puppet masters such as Sakuya wouldn't tell. But the reigning theory based on observation was that the tattoos were protective charms. Given that tiny archaic symbols were inked around the vines or barbed wires, it seemed likely that a jutsu was involved.

Shiro walked over and stuck out his leg. The red vine tattooed onto his ankle began glowing green immediately. "Dude. Something's totally up with this room."

Kankuro glanced at his cats. "Must be why the cats walked around the edge of the room to get to their bowls."

Kenji nodded seriously. "There's definitely something spooky going on here." He passed his hand over the place where Kankuro said the pot was. "And this part of the room doesn't feel right." He thought of something that made his jaw drop and bowed to Kankuro humbly. "I am so sorry, Sempai. I don't wanna look crazy." He pressed his palms together and blurted, "I'm gonna tear up your floor, man."

Daiki's eyes widened in surprise. He blinked and then furrowed his brow.

Kenji dropped to his knees without waiting for a response and felt around on the floor. "I'm looking for something, and I'm not gonna find it without checking both sides. Of everything."

Daiki just watched him.

"Uh, dude . . .?" Shiro stared down at him.

Kankuro eyed the tatami mats with great suspicion. "No, he's got a point. It's gotta be a jutsu, right? That's the only thing that makes sense. And for a jutsu, you need either a caster or a circle or both. Only right now we've got neither."

Shiro's brow furrowed. "Oh . . . right." He backed off the mats, giving Kenji room.

"Thanks, Sempai!" Kenji got his fingers under the edges of the first mat, the one right in front of him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I know I'll find something. There's gotta be an explanation like that."

Kankuro joined Kenji on the floor. "Good idea." He gripped a second mat with his fingers and tugged. At the same moment, they both pulled up a mat, exposing the floor underneath.

"Holy God," Shiro muttered.

Daiki stood back by the table. "Good instincts."

Kenji almost dropped his mat. "Holy crap! It's like a — like a —" He didn't finish. He just stared at it.

He and Kankuro held two halves of the same symbol.

Kankuro stared at what looked rather like an oversized summoning circle except the symbols were all wrong. In fact, the little triangles, swirls, and crane-figures looked like pictures from history books — specifically pictures of symbols used in ancient jutsu.

Rather like the ones decorating Kankuro's ankle at the moment.

"It's old," Kankuro said flatly. "And given the lack of blood and damage, I'd say it doesn't summon stuff." He looked up at Kenji. "This is so your department, man. I need you to commit this thing to memory, go find out what the fuck it is, and figure out how to reverse it or break it or whatever the hell it needs." Desperation and anger shot through him. "This is my fucking family we're talking about here!" He included Baki in that category without even thinking. "I've gotta save them." A horrible thought hit him. "Oh, God," he whispered. "If I still can . . ."

Shiro walked over and squeezed his arm.

"Sempai." Kenji was stern. "This jutsu doesn't kill things, and it doesn't summon things. It could teleport things, except this part is wrong." He pointed to a section near the middle. "It doesn't go anywhere. So whatever happened, it's not directly lethal. I think. You've got time." He squinted, committing the symbol to memory. "You've got help." He replaced the mat. "I've got a photographic memory. Don't worry. I'll go find what it means." He stood and brushed off his knees. "Even if I have to ask the Creepy Old Lady. I'll murder it out of her."

"He means talking harshly," Daiki said unnecessarily.

Kenji glared at him. "Well? You coming or not? You know I can't reach the top shelves in the library." He smirked. "Or even the middle shelves."

Daiki accepted this assignment, falling in behind Kenji. Kenji saluted Kankuro as he walked out of the kitchen. "I'm gonna find your symbol, and we're gonna find your family — Baki-san included."

"Thanks, man." Kankuro watched his two friends head out, marginally comforted by Kenji's assessment.

Shiro turned to him and gave him a hug, thumping him on the back. "It'll be okay, man. You know Turtle's a killer at this research stuff. No matter how rare it is, he'll track it down."

Kankuro hugged him back. "Yeah." Once released, he leaned against the sink. "This is not good, man. For something this complex, we're talking conspiracy. Probably with an elder councilman or two involved."

Shiro extended his chakra strings and moved the remaining mat back into place. "You didn't check with the council for a status update, did you?"

"Nah, man. I had a really bad feeling from the start." Kankuro sighed, feeling his pulse in his head. "If they killed my siblings and my — " He tripped over his own words. He stopped and glanced at Shiro. " — my other best friend, I'll wanna kill 'em all."

Shiro accepted this declaration. "There are a lot of puppeteers who'd help you, man. Not just us."

Baki, Temari, and Gaara stood in the kitchen on the other side of the room. They'd watched Kankuro and his friends in wide-eyed silence.

Baki felt incredibly off-balance at watching this drama unfold without him, even though he was technically in the middle of it.

At Kankuro's declaration that he was Kankuro's other best friend, his heart almost stopped. _He almost said I was his teacher. But he didn't. He called me his friend._ In spite of the fact that he was trapped in another dimension and hadn't had much to eat since a half ration this morning, Baki felt incredibly happy. _And he's said I'm like family. Family._ He glanced at Temari and Gaara. _I wonder if they feel the same way. If they can._

Then again, Baki figured that Temari was stunned by finding out that Kenji wasn't just some dorky fifteen-year-old otaku. She wouldn't be talking any time soon.

Kankuro wandered over to the kitchen table and dropped into a chair. "I have no idea what the fuck to do. I mean, Turtle's on the research, and I can set Spider out on surveillance if I can just figure out where to put him." Since Daiki was so silent, everyone talked around him as though he wasn't there. As a result, he collected copious amounts of information easily. "And you can go stick your nose in where it doesn't belong and charm people into spilling their guts."

Shiro laughed and walked over to the table, leaning his hip against it and crossing his arms. "I sure as hell can."

"But really, finding out who did this is secondary to finding out what they did and getting my family back." Kankuro propped his elbows on the table and sank his face into his hands.

Shiro tilted his head. "Well, I guess, man. But finding out the who might help you with the what."

Kankuro parted his fingers and peered out at him. "Good point." He lifted his head. "But if you go poking into the wrong place you might end up dead. Whoever it is is serious, man. Way serious."

Shiro, predictably, just shrugged and grinned.

Kankuro sighed. "We don't know where to send you."

"You trust my mom, right?" Shiro asked, walking over to the refrigerator and wrenching the door open.

It was a gimmie question. Shiro's mom called Kankuro "Ro" — something that only his maternal grandpa had ever done — and had asked Kankuro to call her "Mom." "Well, sure, man."

Shiro pulled out a plastic container, opened it, and sniffed. "I'll ask her advice. She might even go with me. She's training to come out of retirement, after all. She'd probably like to brush up her skills on something for her 'other son.'" He grinned at Kankuro.

Temari listened to this conversation with a furrowed brow. "Go where?" she asked, even though she couldn't participate in the conversation.

"To the council," Gaara said.

Baki glanced at Gaara sharply. "Perhaps. That would be dangerous."

Gaara shrugged one shoulder. "That might be why Shiro wants to bring his mom."

Baki turned back to Kankuro and Shiro. Kankuro was frustratingly close. If he could just reach out and squeeze Kankuro's shoulder, he would feel a whole lot better.

Kankuro shook his head. "No, you guys just determine who's following me and how many of them there are. And if they're ANBU. That would be the first, best step." He had a very bad feeling about who they were dealing with.

"Okay. I guess that makes sense." Walking over to the microwave, Shiro nuked the container of chicken yakisoba, then carried it over to Kankuro, setting it down in front of him and then getting him a pair of chopsticks.

Kankuro stared up at him. "What's this for?"

"Hey, you don't fool me, man." Shiro crossed his arms. "Seriously. Look me in the eyes and tell me you actually cooked supper or breakfast."

Kankuro looked away, letting his gaze fall on the food. _But I'm not hungry._

"I thought so." Shiro clapped him on the shoulder. "Eat. You need to. We might have a fight on our hands later. And don't worry so much. I know how much you love Temari and Gaara. And Baki-sensei, too. But they're tough. They're probably just being held captive. They can take that."

Shiro could be terribly blunt sometimes, even about emotions. Kankuro grabbed the chopsticks and stabbed the noodles. "Yeah . . . well . . ."

Shiro squeezed his shoulder and let go. "Will you be okay here by yourself? I mean, if you're being tracked and all . . ."

Kankuro glanced up at him. "I'll deal. Find out who's on me. And don't return here alone."

"Don't leave him alone," Baki protested, staring at Shiro. Then he looked away and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God." He thought his heart would break if he had to stand here and watch Kankuro eat lukewarm yakisoba alone. In fact, he wanted to put his fist through a wall. _Can't you see he's being brave for you? How can you be so caring one moment and the next be so stupid?_ Baki normally felt he had a forgiving attitude towards Shiro. Right now, he really just wanted to kill the guy.

"We'll be here," Gaara said.

"But he doesn't know that!" Baki looked up at the ceiling instead of directing his anger at Gaara.

Temari chewed on her lip.

"Hai, Captain!" Shiro grinned at him, then sobered again. "We'll make it as quick as we can, man." He rushed to the foyer, slipping on his sandals, grabbing his puppet, and then heading out.

Kankuro stared down at the yakisoba, which he forced himself to eat. He couldn't taste it. Like the protein bar earlier, it seemed to turn into sawdust in his mouth. _I just want them back home,_ he thought, spearing a piece of chicken. _I just want them home safely._ He had the bad feeling like he wouldn't be able to stand to let them out of his sight for days afterwards.

If he could get them back.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure they would understand. Temari would probably call him clingy and shake him off. Gaara would gaze at him with that wide-eyed incomprehension he displayed about some emotional things; Kankuro wasn't sure that he understood yet just how much he loved him.

And Baki . . .

Well, no matter how desperately Kankuro felt like he needed Baki to stay, he'd been unable to communicate that to his former sensei. So at the end of the day, Baki always went home. For the first time, Kankuro admitted to himself how much he didn't want him to. _I want my family back._

Suddenly, the noodles before him wavered. Kankuro had trouble swallowing, but for the sake of the possible upcoming fight, he kept forcing the food down. The tears streaked down his cheeks unchecked.

"Oh, no. No . . . " Baki walked around to where Kankuro sat, almost stumbling at the sudden rubbery feeling in his legs. He reached out and touched the invisible barrier between them.

"He never cries," Temari said in a scratchy whisper. She looked horrified. "Grandfather beat it out of him during training. He beat it out of both of us. He can't cry. If he's crying, it means — " She broke off and covered her face with her hands.

Baki turned on his heel, took one look at Temari, and yanked her into his arms. She clung to him, trembling. He stroked her back, unsure of what else to do.

"My ototo," Temari mumbled. "No, no, not me. He's the one — he's the one that's so upset he's —" She shouted in frustration. "God, this sucks! It's too horrible." She pulled out of Baki's arms and went to Kankuro's side. She punched the invisible barrier in frustration. "Come on! Please. Damnit!" She dropped to her knees. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I never showed it."

Baki watched her with wide eyes.

Gaara inched his way over to her bit by bit. "Oneesan?"

Temari punched the floor of their prison. "I didn't do it when I had the chance, okay? I didn't ever tell him he was — God, it sucks! It's so stupid! I didn't do it when I had the chance. I didn't show anything. I'm just like Grandfather. Dammit!"

She yanked all the ponytails out of her hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders in a mess, and raked her hand through her locks. "I'm sick of this! If I'm ever getting out of here, I'm telling you how much I care. I promise. I don't care if it's tough; I don't care if it's cool. I'm not gonna be a shinobi if being a shinobi means I can watch someone make you hurt so much and never do anything about it. It's not what I wanted!"

Gaara knelt by her. He put his hand on her back. "He can't hear you," he said quietly. "But I think you should tell him. When we get out."

Temari trembled. "We better." Her face was slowly turning red. "We just better. And when I get out, I'm fucking killing whoever put Kankuro through all this pain."

Meanwhile, in the real world, Kankuro became distracted by the tingling on his arm. He glanced down at his right arm, remembering that the priest he'd befriend at Central Temple had once told him that if his arm tingled all by itself — not a normal case of the shivers — it meant the spiritual energy in the room had spiked.

His gaze traveled to the tatami mats just a few feet away.

_Fucking creepy._

Something felt wrong.

Kankuro glanced toward the kitchen doorway.

A man with shoulder-length, dirty-blonde hair stood there, staring at him.


	4. Truths and Spells

**Chapter Four: Truths and Spells**

Kankuro shot to his feet, both shocked and afraid at finding a man with no chakra signature just standing in the middle of his house.

The man was dressed in a nondescript Suna shinobi uniform. He didn't react to Kankuro's shock with any kind of apology. Instead he tilted his head and said pleasantly, "Kankuro-sama. You seem distressed." He gestured to the chair Kankuro had been sitting in. "Calm yourself and have a seat."

The man's sudden appearance nearly gave Baki a heart attack as well. Temari and Gaara jumped to their feet and clustered by Baki.

"Like hell he will!" Baki snapped. _Holy shit, if I didn't feel him here. What the hell?_

Kankuro opted to remain standing. He searched his memory, trying to recall the man. He was about 5'10 and had light blue eyes. Average build, mid-thirties. There were a dozen men in Suna who looked much like him. Still, after a minute, Kankuro placed him. "Uh — Kuwabara." He was a jonin. "How the fuck did you get in my house, and why the hell are you masking your chakra?"

Like he needed to ask. He thanked Kami his puppets were on his back.

Kuwabara frowned with an expression of slight distress. "Such profanity." He looked at Kankuro's face for a moment. "And from such a beautiful mouth." He pouted.

Baki felt sick.

"What the hell?" Temari blurted.

Baki clenched his fists at his sides. He was filled with equal parts rage and fear at being impotent in this situation. "Kankuro should run."

Gaara breathed in sharply. "Run?"

Baki trembled, unable to help himself. "Kuwabara has almost been drummed out of the service seven times for. . . certain things."

"Certain what?" Temari growled.

Baki didn't answer.

Every red flag, wailing siren, and glowing sign possible triggered in Kankuro's mind. _Oh, God._ He recognized the type immediately. _I should've never let Shiro go. I wasn't safe here after all._ He had planned to go into the maze again, but now he'd never get there. _I have to get out of here._ The need to be outside in the open was overwhelming. He was trapped in the house, and that made his entire body cold. There wasn't a door to the outside in the kitchen. He'd have to go through Kuwabara to escape.

Kankuro would blow up the entire house if that was what it took.

"This is unnecessary." Kankuro kept his voice calm; it was the best performance of his life. He had to buy enough time to generate a strategy.

Kuwabara furrowed his brow. "Afraid not, Lovely. It's very necessary." He gestured to the floor. "Your little friends discovered our handiwork. You failed to fall prey to it." He shook his head. "The plan is all unraveling now. I'll handle it my way and report back." He shrugged. "You see, that's how life is."

Baki took a step forward. "Oh, God. No." He was behind Kankuro, he was right here, but he couldn't do anything. He was barely holding himself back from a panic attack.

Gaara grabbed his arm. "What are you going to do?"

"Dammit!" Baki squeezed his eyes shut for a moment so he didn't punch Gaara in the face. Or try to. "Sometimes I hate your logic."

"Sorry."

"What does this guy think he's gonna do?" Temari asked incredulously.

Baki didn't answer.

Kankuro read right into those words, and he read more than death in them. If it went down the way Kuwabara wanted, then death was the least of Kankuro's concerns.

If it went down the way Kuwabara intended, death would be welcome.

Scrambling for a plan, Kankuro fought desperately to clear his mind and think, but he couldn't. He'd faced people like this before. And there was no way in hell he was going to lose to this one. He instantly pulled two scrolls off his back, summoning Karasu and Kuro Ari. He didn't have a lot of space to work with, so he couldn't summon Sanshouo. "Fine. Let's do this!"

Kuwabara laughed and held up his hands. "Whoa! Darling, there's no need to get serious. Just give up without a fight, and I'll be gentle."

Gaara had to drag Baki backwards.

"You fucking liar!" Baki yelled.

"What is going on here?" Temari exclaimed in frustration. "They're gonna fight to the death right here in the kitchen?"

Neither Gaara nor Baki had time for Temari's denial.

"There ain't no gentle to it," Kankuro snapped. He couldn't launch a gas bomb without killing himself, so he was going to have to do it all with blades. "I know your type. So let's be clear: there's only one way to end this — your death or mine. And trust me when I say it'll be yours."

It wasn't an idle boast. Although he was still a chuunin, Kankuro was already as strong as the average Suna jonin. All he lacked was the leadership experience. Not the strength.

Karasu popped his arm open and shot out a barrage of kunai.

As soon as Kankuro started the attack, Baki, Temari, and Gaara, due to the intricacies of the dimensional prison, found themselves witnessing everything from above Kankuro's head, the floor of their prison suddenly above the kitchen table.

Kuwabara's form flickered at the speed with which he dodged the kunai. Then he leapt above Kankuro, taking advantage of the unusually high ceilings in the mansion, and surrounded himself with seven shadow clones, camouflaging his real body. "Such harsh words," one of them said.

Then they spread out. Five of them started making signs at the same time. The other three charged Kankuro.

Kankuro immediately separated Karasu's limbs and head, extending their built-in blades. The head opened its mouth and sprayed down the entire room with senbon as Kankuro pulled the limbs into position and shot all six of them outward, aiming at each of the clones. He sent the head after the one he thought was the real Kuwabara. At the same time, he moved Kuro Ari in front of him, using him as a type of shield while he tried to figure out what jutsu Kuwabara was attempting.

In the back of his mind, he had a single thought: I hope Kami loves me.

He had no idea why God would love him, but he'd prayed a prayer when he was ten. And eleven. And twelve. He'd prayed it repeatedly, every time his grandfather returned for sabbatical from his diplomatic assignment in Wind's capitol: _Please, Kami, don't let me get raped. I'd rather die first._

The three clones that charged hastily dodged. One of them dodged directly into the path of another attack and popped into smoke. The other two narrowly escaped, only to be chased by Karasu's limbs.

"Hey! You know you don't have to be so hasty," they said in unison. The small fighting area hampered Kuwabara as much as it did Kankuro.

Two of Kuwabara's clones dodged an attack at the same time in the same direction over the kitchen sink — exactly Kankuro's aim. They smashed into each other and into the kitchen cabinets. "You stupid bastard!" one swore at the other. Then Karasu's blades caught up with them and popped them into smoke.

Three of them managed to get their jutsu off, dodging Karasu's initial attack. One turned see-through and then invisible. Another conjured three spinning wheels that circled him and helped him fend off attacks. They were like floating shields.

One Kuwabara was busy dodging Karasu's head, looking completely nonplussed by the experience. Karasu's head threatened to back him into the pantry area on the far side of the kitchen.

The final Kuwabara sent off a fireball in Kankuro's direction.

_Oh, God!_ Kankuro hurled himself over the kitchen table. Since he'd already teleported Kuro Ari into the pantry to trap one of the Kuwabaras, he didn't have to worry about his puppet. He grabbed the table with chakra strings as he went, toppling it over and using it as a shield against the fireball.

The ball exploded in the corner of the room, blowing the window out, scorching the wall, and leaving the entire corner of the room on fire.

"Kankuro!" Temari screamed. She fell to her hands and knees on the floor of the dimensional prison, tearing at it even though there was nothing she could do.

The table saved Kankuro from the backlash and also put him in the doorway to the living room. He gathered himself instantly, using Karasu's head to drive one Kuwabara back into Kuro Ari and trap him. He drove the head down into the puppet, and he heard the popping of the clone. He jerked the head back to him, grabbed three knives out of the holder on the counter, and hopped back into the living room, wielding one blade or limb-blade per finger. He punched three blades at the Kuwabara with the spinning blades, trying to come in low. He swirled the other blades around him, attacking other clones and randomly thrusting into the open air to try to keep the invisible clone away from him.

_I'd rather die,_ he prayed. _Please._

Meanwhile, the Kuwabara with the spinning wheels directed them to the best of his ability, rotating them quickly to deflect Kankuro's blades. He was sweating. "Y'know — " More attacks kept him from speaking.

Another clone turned aside Kankuro's attacks with kunai, only to be manipulated into falling over the TV. He was finished.

Kankuro had narrowed it down to one clone and the original. He really felt that the invisible one was the real Kuwabara, and the remaining one with the blade-shields was the clone. He turned Karasu's head, opening his mouth and spraying dozens of senbon at the visible one with the blades. Simultaneously, he drove one limb-blade at Kuwabara's head and another at his feet. At the same time, he kept four other limbs and the three knives around his body, stabbing outward at various heights and angles to try to keep the original off of him.

Kuwabara looked at his situation with resignation the moment before blades stabbed through his body. "Aw, crap." He poofed into smoke, his shields doing the same.

Kankuro heard a voice somewhere behind him. "Sweetheart. Darling. Lovely. You make it so hard to get close to you."

Kankuro didn't change his attack pattern. The voice could be thrown or faked, so he turned himself slowly, keeping the ten blades up all around him and constantly moving. The problem with the puppet jutsu was that it was weak on defense, unless one had a defensive puppet, and it was weak with close range attacks like taijutsu. In a small space and without Sanshouo, Kankuro's only option was to keep Kuwabara back.

However, if he could just scratch him with one of Karasu's blades, Kuwabara would be poisoned.

Given what he understood Kuwabara's intentions to be, gassing them both to death was even an option.

Now Kuwabara's voice came from Kankuro's left, from the corner of the room. "It's like you don't like me or something. Say it's not true."

Baki was beside himself. His legs trembled too much to keep him upright. He finally sank to his knees. Throughout the entire battle, he'd been silent, praying for Kankuro to win, praying for Kuwabara's bloody death. Now they were so close, and Kuwabara was toying with Kankuro. "Just shut up and die!" Baki yelled.

"I don't even know you," Kankuro said, then otherwise ignored the comment. Karasu's head was out of senbon; he had to come up with another solution. He was too far away from Kuro Ari to reach him now, and the fire was spreading in the kitchen. Fortunately, part of the smoke was going out the busted window, and the rest was rising to the top of the twenty-foot ceilings. Still, smoke inhalation would become a problem soon.

Kankuro diverted one blade to the closest window, busting out the glass. Then he moved himself closer to the staircase, a plan finally beginning to form. If he could get up the stairs fast enough, he could escape into the passage from the second floor and teleport himself all the way out to the outpost.

Kuwabara's voice came from the stairs. "Aw, Darling, where you goin'? You could get to know me. Don't get so standoffish. You're not gonna be a virgin forever. Face it. It's me or no one else. You're gonna die in here."

_He's bouncing all around me somehow._ Kankuro only turned halfway toward the voice, assuming he'd move again soon. "It doesn't count if it's rape, Dipshit."

Suddenly, Kankuro realized that he should've teleported out of the mansion in the first moment. Teleportation took line of sight if you didn't know where you were going and a clear mental image if you did. Kankuro had neither at the beginning of the fight; he'd been too scrambled. But the threat of teleporting himself into the parameter wall was minor compared to what was happening now.

He checked his chakra, willing to attempt teleportation even now, but he realized he didn't have enough left. He was running out because he hadn't eaten much and wasn't even done digesting his yakisoba. Fortunately, the chakra strings required little chakra.

_Think!_ he ordered himself. He'd lived in the mansion all his life; he needed to use his terrain to his advantage.

Kuwabara laughed. "Rape? Then cooperate. I'll be nice. I'll do anything you want. How about a nice threesome? Me, me, and you. I'm good at this shadow clone stuff. I've done it before."

_He said something about me being a virgin,_ Kankuro realized. Taking the bet that Kuwabara might be fixated on that part, Kankuro took action. "You know what? You're too late for your little party. I'm used goods."

"What?" Kuwabara blurted.

"What?" Temari echoed.

"Hnn," Gaara said.

Baki felt oddly as though he'd entered another reality, not just another dimension. He was suddenly embarrassed to be Kankuro's unwitting audience.

Kankuro grinned, finding sudden balance in the face of Kuwabara's surprise. "That's right, Sweetcakes." It wasn't a pet name he'd used on anyone, ever. He smirked. "I've been with a guy _just_ like you before." _Except a lot older._ "Multiple times. I lost count. I've been there, done that, and gotten bored with it." Bored wasn't exactly the right word. More like preferring to die than face any of it again.

He changed attack strategies, sinking into the poetic, graceful flow that the puppet jutsu could be and driving four of the blades at the staircase. Hurling them, really, snapping them through the air so quickly they cut the air with a faint pop. He kept the other six around him in defense. _I'll cut him into shreds no matter what it takes._

"You little beast." Kuwabara's voice, coming now from around the broken TV, sounded miffed. He worked his way up to outrage. "How could you mislead me like that? Going on about rape, acting so innocent and unspoiled. And now this!" His voice changed location, circling around to the left. "Well, fuck it. Screw it. I said it. I don't have to restrain myself for your 'delicate' ears."

Kankuro whirled around, his temper snapping. "Yeah, don't bother, you motherfucking piece of shit!" He dropped a few blades at his feet, grabbing the furniture and mobilizing the entire room in his defense. The kotatsu table flew. The lamp. The chair. And between them, blades. "And you know what? I killed that fucker, too! I poisoned his ass! And no one ever caught me, either!" Truth. He had poisoned his grandfather to save himself — and Gaara, who his grandfather had been getting more interested in. "So go to hell and join him!"

The entire room seemed to come alive with chakra strings and flying objects.

"Fine!" Kuwabara screamed. He materialized, ducked a lamp and shot around a sofa, intent on charging Kankuro. A lethal collection of cutting, slicing blades flew at him. He dodged the first two and then abruptly leapt back. "You can't —" His look of infuriated contempt changed as soon as he registered the cut on his cheek. Kuwabara blinked and touched the cut, getting blood on his fingertips.

He dodged the kotatsu table and had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling over. His eyes widened. "That's pretty —" His legs buckled. Kuwabara crumbled gracelessly to the floor with a thud. " — powerful . . . poison." He licked his lips and fell still. His eyes alone moved, locking on Kankuro.

Kankuro sneered at him. "You deserved a death much worse." But he didn't have time to deliver it. "Die!" He drove all ten blades into Kuwabara's torso, punching him full of holes and pinning him to the floor.

Kuwabara's body spasmed with the impact of the blades, but he didn't cry out. His eyes glazed over.

Kankuro felt Kuwabara's chakra snuff out as well. He turned and ran to the hall closet, pulling the fire extinguisher out. He raced into the kitchen, finding the fire working its way across the ceiling and walls. The corner of the cabinets was on fire as well. He sprayed out the entire contents of the extinguisher, battling the flames with the white foam, desperate to keep the flames from reaching  
>the tatami mats with the symbol on them. He had no idea what the destruction of the symbol might do to his missing family. Not to mention that Kuro Ari was also back in the pantry, although that was a lesser concern.<p>

Task done, he stumbled to the front door, sliding it open and letting in fresh air. He collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing and sobbing. Tears from heat and smoke mixed with tears of delayed horror.

Baki found himself standing in the foyer instead of hovering above Kankuro's head. _The fighting must have shoved this dimension around._

He was relieved that Kankuro's safety was restored, proud of Kankuro for fighting . . . But all he wanted was to be able to take him away from this place. He dropped to his knees behind Kankuro, unable to touch him.

Temari hung back in the area of the ruined kitchen, but he hardly noticed.

Gaara looked around at the house with wide eyes.

Kankuro gasped sharply, then crawled out to the deck, leaning over it and vomiting up his lunch. He'd moved around too much, gotten too hot, too upset. He hung off the side, pulling in clean air. He felt dizzy, weak and lightheaded, although he had no idea what was responsible: the threat of rape, the lack of food, or the smoke inhalation. _All of the above,_ he guessed.

"Oh, God," he moaned, collapsing. He couldn't do this. He had to move. Get those tatami mats, shove them down the stairs into the maze, and then follow himself. He wasn't safe out in the open.

In his anguish, his desperate need for his family exploded out of him. "Baki . . . Gaara . . . Temari . . ." _Shiro. 'Kaasan.' Daiki. Kenji. Someone!_

"Kankuro," Baki burst out, unheard.

Kenji appeared in the distance, followed by two others — Daiki's familiar, gangly form, and another person who looked strange. The second person had a lot of long, wild hair with a form obscured in copious amounts of fabric.

Kenji ran down the street and burst up the steps to him, scrambling. He immediately dropped to his knees by Kankuro and gripped Kankuro's arms. "Sempai! What happened?"

Daiki and the strange person weren't far behind, though they didn't run with quite the same urgency.

Kankuro glanced up at Kenji, tears still standing in his eyes. He was covered in blood, bruises, and black smudges. "Attacked. They attacked me to take me out. Nearly burnt the house down with a fireball." He glanced past Kenji, seeing Daiki and Sakuya. _Creepy Old Lady? Really?_

Before they reached the deck, Shiro teleported in along with his mother and his girlfriend, Miya.  
>"Crow!" Shiro yelled, hurdling up onto the deck and kneeling by him, rubbing his back. "Oh my God! What happened!"<p>

"He got attacked as soon as we left!" Kenji burst out. He threw his arms around Kankuro's neck and hung on.

"What?" Shiro's yell bounced off the stone of the parameter wall.

Shiro's mom, who was named Sumiko, ran up onto the deck as well, kneeling by Kankuro's other side and pressing her hand to his back. "Oh, God . . . Ro."

Kankuro reached up weakly and patted Kenji's back.

"He's hurt! And we have to do something, Mrs.-Shiro's-Mom!" Kenji blurted. "His house is ruined!"

Daiki joined Kenji, looking down at his friend calmly. "Not quite."

"But it's busted up, and it's our fault," Kenji reasoned.

Daiki let out a sigh and took Kenji's arm, gently pulling him off of Kankuro. "Let Sumiko-san look at Crow."

"Right." Kenji was pale.

Sumiko turned Kankuro over onto his back with Shiro's help. Miya took Shiro's place, and the two women checked him over.

"I only know first aid," Miya murmured, pulling out a small can of salve and covering the worst gashes.

"Me, too," Sumiko said. She checked him over, then ran her fingers through Kankuro's hair in a comforting gesture. "Your chakra is weak, but not dangerously so. If you eat, you should stabilize. We need to get you to the hospital, though. You need some oxygen is my guess."

Shiro shook his head. "We're not sure that even the hospital is safe." He leaned over so he could meet Kankuro's gaze. "There were three teams of four in the area. We led them away."

"I was too far away to sense the battle," Sumiko said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Kankuro didn't bother to reply. He was incredibly glad she was there, but as he gazed up at her dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, he realized he needed to see someone else even more.

Baki was bewildered, but glad, to see all the help arrive. Still, the help didn't guarantee things were over. Temari and Gaara joined him in front of the door. They couldn't go outside, but they could look.

"I'm sorry," Kenji spoke up. "I'm sorry, too. I should have brought Creepy Old Lady over here instead of asking for explanations."

Daiki smiled wryly.

Sakuya climbed onto the deck, making her appearance in the group. "Oh? Indeed, Kenji-san?"

Kenji had the grace to look embarrassed at his slip.

"Sakuya-sama," Daiki said.

Sakuya inclined her head. She was horribly ravaged by age, but somehow still dignified.

"I can get your family back," she said to Kankuro. "With a little help." She smiled slightly, which didn't actually make her look less terrifying. Only the kindness in her eyes kept the words from being menacing. "I see we have plenty. Don't we? Many people care about you."

Kankuro gazed up at the elderly woman with her bushy grey hair and wide eyes. "Please . . ." he whispered. His voice was hoarse from the smoke inhalation and vomiting.

"Of course, Kankuro-san." Her eyes filled with compassion for him. "All I need are the mats with the jutsu preserved on them and five helpers. We shall have Temari-san, Gaara-san, and Baki-san back in no time." She gestured with one withered hand. "You see, they are here."

Baki gave a start. The old woman looked right through them.

Sakuya smiled. "They have been removed by one dimension and placed in a prison called a Shadow Room. I have no doubt they are fine. The worst trouble of a Shadow Room is that the people inside cannot get out themselves. It is merely a holding place."

Kankuro accepted the explanation easily and without any thought. He was tired and ill. "Kenji . . . Shiro . . . please get the mats," he whispered. He couldn't stand if he tried.

"Sure!" Shiro raced into the mansion. Kenji ran after him.

Baki, Temari, and Gaara briefly found themselves displaced towards the ceiling again. "I hate that," Baki commented. _But it'll be over soon enough._

Sakuya nodded over the mats after Shiro and Kenji brought them out to the deck. "Just as I suspected. A sealed Shadow Room jutsu. Very rare, you know." She looked at the group. "All right. Which five of you want to help me?"

Shiro immediately stepped forward. "I will!"

Sumiko stood. "I will, as well."

Standing along with Sumiko, Miya joined Shiro. "I will, too. I don't think Kankuro-kun is any shape to do this."

Kenji nodded, and Daiki stepped forward.

"Of course I will!" Kenji said. He narrowed his eyes at Sakuya, with whom he had a long-standing gripe: she had assigned him pink face paint when he was initiated into the Puppet Corps. "As far as I'm concerned, there's only five of us to begin with."

Sakuya's smile widened. "I knew you would help Kankuro-san."

Kenji looked away. "Oh, whatever. Get his family out already."

Sakuya actually chuckled at that. She helped position them and demonstrated the hand signals she needed from them.

Sakuya stood in the center of the symbol. She bit her thumb, smeared blood on the symbol, crouched, and placed her palm on the mat. She said the first word of the chant and held up one finger. Everyone took the cue and made the first sign with their hands. She held up two fingers at the same time as continuing the chant. They got the idea. After two more parts of the chant and two more hand signals, Sakuya said, "Kai!" She straightened. The symbol flared around her and blinked out of existence.

Everyone turned at the clattering thud of bodies hitting the floor.

Inside the kitchen, Baki, Temari, and Gaara found themselves piled on top of each other.

Kankuro felt three familiar chakras pop back into existence. He struggled into a sitting position, but even with his desperation and the adrenaline surge it gave him, he couldn't get to his feet. "Ototo! Neesan! Baki!" His voice was horribly hoarse and scratchy.

They untangled themselves as quickly as possible.

Baki got his feet under him first and shot out. "Kankuro!" He barreled down the hallway, his heart giving a desperate jump at the sight of Kankuro and everyone else on the deck. He reached out and touched Kankuro's back as soon as he could, dropping to his knees beside him. Baki wrapped his arms around Kankuro before his body ran out of momentum, jerking Kankuro to him. It was clumsy, but Baki didn't care.

Gaara ran out next, with Temari right on his heels.

"Kankuro!" Temari exclaimed, dropping to her knees on his other side.

Gaara crouched at Kankuro's feet, looking down at his brother with wide eyes.

Temari flung her arms around Kankuro, her arms overlapping Baki's bigger ones.

Kankuro thought he must be dreaming. Baki had never hugged him before, and while Temari had sporadically hugged him throughout their lives, she'd never been so expressive about it.

Kankuro felt tears stinging in his eyes and was too relieved, exhausted, and overwhelmed to hate himself for it. "Guys," he whispered. "So glad you're safe."

They all talked at once.

Baki started out with, "We're the ones who're glad you're safe, Kankuro! I —"

And was interrupted by Temari bursting out, "Oh my God, I'm so glad you're safe that was horrible I didn't wish in a million years —"

Which ran into Gaara saying with an unusual burst of emotion, " — was worried, Niisan."

Kenji nudged Daiki's arm and smiled. He backed off to the far side of the deck with his friend, trying to give Kankuro's family room.

Sumiko and Shiro traded relieved smiles and retreated as well, Miya following them. In whispered voices, they began discussing with Kenji and Daiki what to do to help out with the damaged house and ruined kitchen.

Kankuro soaked up the show of care. "Thanks, guys, but really I'm just glad you're all safe." He had to be clear about it. "I was scared you were dead."

Temari shook her head. "I was scared _you'd_ be dead by the time we got out of here. There, whatever. I was so scared. I never told you anything. I never said how proud I was of you or how awesome you grew up or how amazing you handle things or how brave you are or how proud I am to be your sister or anything like that! I just kept it all inside where it doesn't do any good. I'm getting it out now so you don't have to fill it in yourself and guess about me."

Kankuro began to get suspicious. Had they been able to see what was happening?

"Niisan . . . you're precious to me," Gaara added quietly, completely distracting Kankuro from his train of thought.

Kankuro smiled. "You, too, man." Now he was the one in the alternate dimension. He'd never even dreamed — daydreamed or in his sleep — that Temari, Gaara, and Baki would say such things to him. They were three of the most emotionally reserved or uncommunicative people he'd ever met. And he always held back, too — not because he wanted to or because his father had encouraged such behavior but because he thought his attempts to speak to them in such a way would be rebuffed.

_I must have died in there,_ he thought, losing his grip on reality. _Kami answered my prayer or something._ He reached up and squeezed Temari's arm. "Thanks, Neesan. I'm glad to finally hear your real thoughts, too." It was an overwhelming understatement.

Temari smiled at him in return.

"Ah, God . . . " Baki inhaled deeply, steeling himself. "After this, I can't ignore the danger anymore. I'm going to burden you guys with a house guest for the next few weeks."

Gaara breathed in sharply and looked at Baki with amazement.

"Yes!" Temari exclaimed. "God, Baki, it's no burden." She was hoarse, mostly due to the amount of screaming she'd done in the heat of Kankuro's battle with Kuwabara.

"Yeah," Kankuro whispered. The afterlife was getting better and better. "It's no problem."

"Then I'll start tonight," Baki murmured.

This strange dream Kankuro was having, this dream of an afterlife, was quickly taking shape: a sister he could actually confide in; a brother who considered him just as precious as he did him; and then Baki, who seemed to be more and more invested in them . . .

His exhaustion stole the shape from him, making his eyes heavy. "Good," he whispered.

"Let's take you to your room, where you can be safe and lie down," Baki said. "Your room hasn't been spoiled by the fighting, and we'll open some windows to air out the place if there's any smoke."

"Yeah," Gaara said. "Good idea. Niisan should be in his room, resting."

"Yeah," Kankuro whispered. His family was safe; he could sleep now.

Granted it didn't address who had been responsible for all this in the first place, but Sakuya wasn't without power and resources. If she worked with Baki, they would be able to figure it out. If.

"Thank you, Sakuya-sama," he said without turning his head to look at her. "You saved my family."

"You're welcome." Without her appearance to get in the way, her voice was obviously tender. "Chiyo-sama and Ebizo-sama helped as well. Honestly, I would not have come here if I had not the assurance that my dear friends were next door, dealing with the source of your problems. They did it as a favor to me; no thanks is necessary from you. Please do not trouble yourself to be worried for disturbing their retirement. They quite enjoyed it, I think."

Gaara looked at Sakuya blankly. "Enjoyed?"

"It's not every day one gets to settle an old score. Especially against a man like Unji." Sakuya smiled mischievously. She bowed and then retreated down the steps of the deck. "I shall see how they are getting along. Please have a pleasant day with what is left of it."

Kankuro had no idea what to make of that news, and he was too tired to try to reason it out.

Baki helped him up to his room, his siblings following and hovering over him until they were sure he was comfortable.

Gaara stayed to guard Kankuro while he slept, and the others headed off to deal with the details, such as the corpse in the living room. Kankuro could have gone to sleep utterly peacefully if not for the nagging sensation that Baki and his siblings had overheard what he'd said.

If they had, how could he explain?


End file.
